


Marigold

by starstuddedsin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Addiction, Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Bestiality, Boypussy, Breast Fucking, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Worship, Coercion, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Double Penetration, Enemas, Figging, Fisting, Impregnation, Lactation, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Games, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Oral Sex, Pregnant Sex, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Tentacle Sex, Watersports, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24667435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstuddedsin/pseuds/starstuddedsin
Summary: Hallen is a worthless slave who toils every day in the Undying God’s vegetable garden.Until he makes a bad mistake and becomes so much more.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 151
Kudos: 483





	1. Valueless

Whenever His Divine Godhood, The Sun Over The Mountains, Akheneus the Undying, was strolling in the gardens, Hallen knew to stop his digging, lift his rags up, and lift his bare, meager arse into the air.

To no purpose. The Living God never came Hallen's way. Sometimes He would turn and find the rose arbor and, laughing with His court, proceed down to the great peacock fields. Or He would direct His litter to carry Him to the shining marble fountains by the cold-houses that housed odd, spiky Northern cold-trees. 

Hallen was not permitted to go to any of those places. He was a vegetable garden slave. He wasn't like the perfect slaves of the harem, who wore golden rings in their noses and had golden obelisks stuffed in their holes. The overseer never wasted gold on Hallen. Hallen took carrots and long dark beetroots in his arse. Or ginger, if he had not cleared and dug and planted as he should.

And he was never permitted to go beyond the vegetable gardens. His universe was the humid acre by the palace kitchens. He was housed with the other vegetable garden slaves in a damp, hot cave dug into the earth and covered by a greasy tarp, all of them rolled in together with their dirt and sweat. Until the overseer should pull back the tarp and whip them awake. Once a week they were permitted to wash at the cistern, and once a day they were allowed to pick one thing -- one tomato or carrot or beetroot of the Living God's gardens, and thus the finest grown anywhere. To kiss it and bow to the earth in the direction of the palace, saying their thanks. Before eating it hungrily, for to have only one meal a day meant most of them were always starving. 

Most of the vegetable garden slaves were old, old men and women who had been pulled from the prisons as part of the God Undying's great mercy. They now had a chance of dropping dead and being buried somewhere in the far reaches of the gardens to attract worms, rather than being burned as criminals. They were toothless and wizened, and wheezed while they worked. Their brittle chests heaved up every breath like it was a special pain. 

Three or four were stout pig-slaves brought from the Temples of Su-Khe-Choiros, with slippery fat folds and snouts to sniff out pests. They were the best treated and best prized vegetable garden slaves, for they kept the beds healthy. They had the best spots in the cave, and sometimes the overseer would make Hallen drop on his hands and knees before them and take their twisted pig-cocks. Hallen would be rutted painfully into the dirt, the corkscrew dicks fucking up into his throbbing insides as the pig-men squealed their pleasure. 

Hallen was neither a criminal nor an experiment of the Thoughtful Pig God's acolytes. He was just a regular slave. His slave mother had birthed him painfully in her own cave-hovel, and cared for him as best she could until she'd fallen sick. She had been a kitchen slave. There had been some worry that her illness would contaminate the food of the Undying Court. So she had been exiled to the farthest reach of the vegetable garden with Hallen, to die. 

Hallen had pitifully wept into her corpse for nearly a week, before the charnel workers came to remove her. He'd been dirty and covered in sores by then, and clearly not fit to be sent back to the kitchens. He'd thought, fearfully, that he might be sent to the mines. But the vegetable garden's overseer had grabbed a fistful of Hallen's hair -- that peculiar red-gold -- and said, "Let me keep this one. It's clear he's fought off whatever illness it was. I could use one like this for my garden."

Hallen had been very grateful, but the gratitude dried up when the overseer later forced him to his knees. Hallen had to learn to suck his big cock. He hated it. Hated the vile sweat of it. Hated cleaning the dirty bits beneath the foreskin, and the way it leaked precum right onto his tongue. Hated its weight in his mouth. But he learned. Hands to stroke the long shaft, mouth to suckle the head. Sometimes to suck wetly on the big heavy sack behind it, too. Or even to get at the other side entirely, to lap and lick the hairy rim of the overseer's arse while Hallen's fingers stroked his cock. 

The overseer would fuck Hallen, too. But only on washing days. Hallen was too dirty the rest of the time, smudged with the mud of the garden. On washing days he was pink and clean and shivering, and before he pulled his stained rags on again he would get on hands and knees so the overseer could fuck him. Rough. Hallen's arse would be brutally sore for the next few days at least. The overseer never wasted fine oils on him, though he would taunt Hallen about how valuable slaves, bed-slaves, harem slaves, at least had that comfort. 

"They're magnificent things, not like you," the overseer would grunt, smacking Hallen's sore backside as he rutted into him. Pain would shoot through Hallen from both the spanks and the fuck, shoot into his core and make him sob into the dirt. "You'll take it dry and like it."

And the worst thing, then, was how the overseer would prove to be right. The heavy fuck would scrape into a spot inside Hallen that _wanted_ it. That went straight to his own cock. Hallen would end the fuck leaking into the mud, panting and wishing he could touch himself. But he could not touch himself. 

The overseer could touch, for he was employed by His Divinity to rough slaves about however he so chose. The pig-slaves could touch, for they were to be rewarded for their service according to the treaties He had made with the Pig God. But Hallen could not touch the Undying God's property. The one time he had tried, the overseer had bound him to a rose-covered wall by the soldiers' barracks. While the soldiers laughed and jeered, Hallen's sensitive, still-hard cock was pinpricked with thorns, and his back and legs lashed bloody.

"Apologize!" the overseer had roared, as the whip whistled through the air. Hallen had sobbed into the thorns, the pain in his back and arms and legs and cock overwhelming. 

"I'm s-sorry to His Holiness, to the L-Lord Undying. T-to the g-great one. S-sorry t-to t-touch the b-body that b-belongs to H-Him!" he'd forced out. 

Hallen belonged to Him. Though the Divine Godhood likely had no idea he existed. Still, Hallen was to work for him until he died and was used to fertilize the Lord Undying's fields. To turn up his arse and present himself whenever even the sound of the Great Akheneus' laughter rang out over the gardens. 

A bold, bright laugh. None of the slaves could make such a sound. None of them knew how, probably. Hallen scarcely did. He never had reason to laugh. Still, he would obediently fall to his knees at it and offer himself. Thrust his skinny arse up and spread the cheeks, waiting for a divine touch that would never come.

Instead he would hear the chuckle of the overseer. Feel the press of a cold, hard carrot into his hole. It would get forced all the way into him, until the greens dangled out like a little tail and he was mewling miserably into the dirt at the intrusion in his arse. The overseer's sandals would appear before him, and Hallen would hear the snick of his belt undone, the rustle of his cock being pulled out.

"No god-fuck today, little slave. Nor ever. Why would he fuck something as valueless as _you_? But there's a snack for later. I'm always kind to you like this. And here's a little drink. Stick out your tongue now."

Hallen would, though he didn't want to. It was that or be lashed. The overseer would piss onto his waiting tongue, the hot yellow stream sour as anything. Hallen would lap down what he could and wear the rest, and in the night be forced out of the cave by the other slaves who did not want to smell him. 

Only the pig-slaves didn't mind it. They would still fuck him, fuck his smelly, hurting body well into the night.

-

There were no rest days for slaves, for the purpose of slaves was to work. But the overseer had one day a month when he went off to do whatever he liked, instead of watching over the slaves of the vegetable garden. On that day, usually, a soldier would be borrowed from the barracks to keep them at their work. Soldiers were quick with the lash, but none of them ever seemed to want more from Hallen than that he do his duty: dig, and weed, and haul water for the thirsty tomatoes. He preferred the soldiers to the overseer, though they often stripped his back bare when he was not fast enough.

On this rest day, he tried to be fast. He sweated and hauled, and though the hot midsummer sun was leaving his skin sore and red, and the insects were biting at his bare ankles and arms, he did not pause. He kept his mind on his work, so as to not feel the lash. Perhaps tonight he could sleep without any aches. Hallen hardly ever slept like that. Not since his mother's dying arms had been around him.

So he worked diligently. The sun climbed to its sacred place, right up to the cradle in the sky where the Lord Undying's all-seeing gaze blessed the land. Hallen dropped to his knees and began work on the irrigation ditch that was needed, so hot now that he was panting like a dog.

The soldier's sandals appeared before him. Hallen did not look up, for it would have been disrespectful. Instead he stopped and went prostrate, as befit a slave.

"You," said the soldier, in the strange halting tones of one raised to speak Jullskint. That far-off, Northern land, where the Snow God had reigned until the Lord Undying had broken his forces, beaten and bedded his warrior-women, and claimed the sons that resulted for his private guard. That had been two generations ago, and now the Jullskint-guard were fully loyal to The Sun Over The Mountains, that great king who ever-spawned his own heir and then died to pass the constant stream of life on to the newborn king. The Jullskint came to the Land Between The Mountains to train themselves into an elite, trusted force for their new king, and generally kept to the most private parts of the court with the Divine One's other select guard-brothers: the stout, powerful Edombe and the brown-skinned Gherik-Shu. 

Hallen swallowed. He had not ever thought to meet a Jullskint. 

The sandal-toes kicked gently at his chin.

"Look at me," the Jullskint demanded.

Hallen looked up. The Jullskint was as tanned as any Of-The-Mountains. But his hair was a glorious riot of white, and his narrow eyes so pale Hallen's breath caught in his throat. He was so beautiful Hallen closed his eyes, trying to preserve the vision for himself. He had the green beauty of the gardens, the one pleasure he could count on. But he might never see a living man so beautiful again. 

"Stop that. _Look_ at me, I said," the Jullskint said. He leaned down and took hold of Hallen's dirty chin. Hallen's eyes snapped open obediently. 

"You're fast," said the Jullskint. "I have a job for you. Yes?"

He made Hallen nod yes.

"Good. Settled, then," said the Jullskint. "I need you to go to the seraglio beyond the rose gardens and to ask for the Iris. Understood? The Iris will have something to give you that you are to bring back to me."

Hallen's breath stuttered.

"The-the seraglio? Sir, I'm a garden slave--"

"I know what you are," snapped the Jullskint. "But you're fast. If you're careful and quick, no one will see you, will they? So you'd better be careful and quick."

And he straightened, so he could unwind the whip at his belt and look at it thoughtfully.

"Well, slave?" he said. 

Hallen got the picture. Shaking, he forced himself to stand and nod.

"Th-the seraglio," he said, though that place was forbidden to him. He was not meant to go there. That was where the gorgeous slaves were kept, the ones permitted to feel the touch of the Divine Godhood. Hallen wasn't one of those. Hallen wasn't even allowed to leave the vegetable garden.

The Jullskint nodded.

"That's right," he said. "Tell the Iris that Lasse sent you. Quick, now!"

He cracked the whip out, catching Hallen's bare feet and making him yelp. Hallen fell into a run. Quick. Quick. If he was quick, perhaps no one would see the wicked thing he was doing. Darting down the paths between the bean bushes and through the rose-covered wall. Then he was in the rose maze. 

It was on a slope below the vegetable patch, and he had often seen it from above. So he knew how to navigate it, for all that he'd never been here. But he had to duck into the painful brambles from time to time, for half the time he could near the laughter of courtiers in the next stretch of maze. He could not be seen by them. He was shaking with fright at the thought of what might happen if he was caught. 

The sun had reached the sacred cradle and was beginning its descent back to the body of the Lord Undying, when Hallen made it out of the maze. Beyond that there was a high iron fence dense with pale blue bellflowers. The sounds of music floated out from the harem. Hallen crouched along the fence until he found a gate, and there he could see a path winding along high hedges. He knew, from the overseer's lustful descriptions, that the path would fork off. There would be a fork for the cat-slave halls, where the pretty kittens created by the Temple of Lust resided. There would be a fork for the harem for normal men and women, for sometimes the Lord Undying was born with rather prosaic appetites. There would be a stables for the ones trained as ponies, and a barn for the ones modified into cows by the acolytes at the Temples of Abundance. 

And straight ahead, if one followed the path true, there would be the seraglio. The hall for the select slaves, the ones Akheneus most preferred. Pierced and tattooed and stretched to His tastes, made to take His cock under any and all conditions. Punished to perfection. Some nights, their mingled cries of agony and pleasure reached even the vegetable gardens. 

It seemed ludicrous that they were not better-guarded. But this path only led deeper into the gardens, back to the mazes and the kitchens. So there were no soldiers patrolling here. Hallen was able to sneak down to the very end.

There the path opened onto riotous flowerbeds, interspersed with tinkling fountains. Butterflies and hummingbirds darted from bloom to bloom. Beyond the fall of blossoms, there was a wide portico with many heavy columns. From behind the portico door, there came the sound of persistent moans.

A voluptuous, beautiful girl sat on the portico, playing with herself. Tugging her heavy breasts, rubbing fingers on her slit. Her golden hair tumbled down her back as she drenched her own hand, breathing hard. Hallen thought this might be the time to sneak past her, for she was occupied. He climbed onto the farthest edge of the portico from where she was, and edged his way past her to the double doors.

Unless she was the Iris? 

Now he was worried. How would he know who the Iris was? The Jullskint had not told him. 

Hallen stopped sneaking past her and now gingerly came up behind her. He was still so frightened of being caught, but perhaps -- perhaps he could find his voice and simply _ask_ \--

But now she was really in the throes of it. Moaning. Her eyes were wide and almost inhuman, pupils blown, as if she were insensible. She was working herself roughly, her beautiful chest rising and falling in time with her breaths. 

There was a flower tattooed by one of her nipples. Hallen, who worked in a garden, knew flowers. But this one was a daffodil.

Not the Iris, then.


	2. Commander Ivo

It was dark and cool inside the seraglio. The walls were high, and there were no windows. Only skylights set at intervals, so the Sun Himself could illuminate the murals on the walls. On those murals, beautiful slaves frolicked, their faces set in ecstatic pleasure. They tugged their cocks and slid obelisks into their waiting holes. They played with their nipples and licked up rivers of cum with their pretty, pierced tongues. 

Not just the slaves on the murals did this. The slaves of the seraglio, too, behaved this way. Just inside the garden foyer, a long-limbed, blue-eyed slave was sucking hungrily at a stone prick set into the wall. His eyes were blown, just as mindless as the Daffodil's. His hands mauled his own ballsack, a huge hanging sack that seemed too large for the tiny cock he possessed. His cunt -- for he _had_ a cunt; he must have been modified by Xeo-Philia, the Clever Lady of Lust -- dripped as much as the Daffodil's had. 

And he was not the Iris. He bore a tattoo on his arse of a tall hollyhock. 

Only one room deeper in, two slaves played with each other -- a pair of daisies, it seemed. A boy and a girl. They tugged on each other's nipple piercings, keening at the brutal treatment, and humped together wildly as they did so. Their cushions reeked of sex. Across the room, the silken nest of a beautiful girl stamped with a calla lily smelled no better. She was rocking a large, horrible-looking hook into her arse, and though she was crying and in obvious pain, she too was wet at it. 

They were all like that. In this cool, lovely hall, safe from the sun outside, on silk sheets and floors inlaid with gold and lapis lazuli, the prized, perfect seraglio slaves did their work, which was to fuck themselves however He decreed. Hallen was humbled by their devotion, but frightened of it too. 

This was the law of the Lord Undying. So Hallen must be worthless and perverse, as worthless and perverse as the overseer always said he was. Because now, seeing the valued ones, he did not like them. Did not like this. Though the cries of the seraglio slaves were all cries of pleasure, their actions were grotesque and forceful. They treated their gorgeous bodies with such cruelty that Hallen shuddered at it, at the Tulips lashing their own stomachs and coming from the pain, at the Orchids sliding painful rods of silver into their sensitive urethras.

He longed to leave. But he could not find the Iris. The seraglio was a palace in itself, a maze worse than the one outside, with so many sleeping rooms and bathing pools his head spun. He searched and searched, coming upon empty private cells with fine beds, creeping carefully through halls with tiled bathing pools where the slaves fucked the energetic, electric tentacles of the Ferromar, the water-creations of the Wise Octopus God. 

But he could find the Iris nowhere.

He did stumble onto a door, down one oddly narrow corridor. Down from what he thought was the central room, for that room had big double-doors that must lead to the palace proper. But here, this little hallway led only to a thick slab with a locked keyhole. He could not open it, so he backtracked to the colonnaded central room and resolved to try and comb the place more carefully.

Then he heard the whistling. 

Two sharp, quick whistles, as if to call a dog. Then two more. Then more, and more, and the slap of heavy soldiers' sandals on marble floors, the jingle of metal weaponry. 

Hallen darted behind a column. On the other side of that column, a black-eyed boy with a poppy stamped onto his plump thigh was fucking himself onto a knobbly, painful-looking jeweled cock, the rim of his arse red and swollen with hurt. But at the whistle this little Poppy stopped, whining a bit. He panted as he got onto his hands and knees, blinking like he was coming to. With the jeweled cock still half-inside his pucker, he began to crawl towards the double-doors 

So did the other slaves about the room -- the slaves fucking themselves by the far wall, and in the pretty fountain-pool. And from the other hallways came more slaves. The beautiful Daffodil. The Hollyhock with his mouth all bruised.

They were too fuck-dazed to do anything like line up. But they were clearly reacting to the whistling, although some, like the Calla Lily and the little Nasturtiums fucking electric tentacles, were perhaps too far gone to react to even that, and did not appear in the central room. Still, after about thirty seconds, the double-doors opened.

Soldiers. Ten or eleven of them. All of them from the elite forces, the forces spawned by the Lord Undying in prior incarnations. His brothers and sisters, His conquest-guard, sworn to serve Him before they served themselves. Most were Jullskints, some five or six. Handsome, pale, and strong. One of these went straight to the Hollyhock. He petted the boy's sandy-blonde hair.

"Hello, pretty," the Jullskint crooned. "Open up."

The Hollyhock raised insensible eyes up to him, with a reverence that ought only have been reserved for the Lord Undying. Hallen watched as he opened up his mouth, let hang out his tongue.

The Jullskint spit into it, as if the beautiful slave were no more than a prison criminal. Hallen started, disgusted by the sight. The overseer did that to _him_ sometimes, but he was a vegetable garden slave. It was right, or at least not wrong, that he be so treated by his betters. But this -- this was a prized seraglio toy of the Divine God's. 

"Aimu, stop fooling and help us," grunted the Gherik-Shu by the door. 

There was only one Gherik-Shu. There were at least five Jullskints, and four bald, stout Edombe. But only one brown, broad Gherik-Shu, with the black sloe eyes and harsh features of the desert raiders the Living God had claimed as His personal bodyguards some nine generations ago, when He had established His dominance over Zerrik, the Wild Horse God.

The Gherik-Shu was clearly the commander. Under his watchful eye, the soldiers wheeled in three heaping barrows of food. Food that Hallen himself might have picked this morning: piles of carrots and baskets of tomatoes. But bread, too, which Hallen had not had in so long that his stomach growled instantly, so loudly he was half-afraid the soldiers heard. Behind the soldiers were two or three serving slaves who ladled the food into bowls. The Gherik-Shu then nodded at his fellow guards. The soldiers began to mingle with the slaves, offering them bowls.

Coaxing some of them to eat. One Edombe woman, a great muscular woman with arms the size of Hallen's torso, was almost kind to the Poppy, patting his shaking flanks and feeding him by hand. 

"Ulikka," growled the frightening Gherik-Shu. "They should _all_ eat. Not just your favorite. Go make sure the others take in some sustenance."

Of course. Only the most elite and trusted of His forces would be permitted to touch these prizes, feed them. Serving slaves could not be given such a task. Hallen watched as Aimu, Ulikka, and the other soldiers forced the seraglio slaves heads' into their bowls, ordering them to eat until the commands penetrated those pretty, dazed heads. Some soldiers carried bowls past the central room, clearly searching for the missing slaves like the Calla Lily. 

Aimu, however, seemed to linger by the tall, lovely Hollyhock.

"He's not eating," he said. "I should... _help_ him."

The Hollyhock was eating, but eating slowly, like he had half-forgotten how to do it. With one hand he still mauled his heavy sack, mauled it painfully enough that he was shuddering. But his little cock was completely erect despite that. 

The Gherik-Shu now snorted. 

"Fine, Aimu," he said. "But only because you made a decent showing at drills, brother."

Aimu grinned, his handsome pale mouth stretched into a perfect slit of delight. 

Then he undid his belt, reached under his tunic. His cock was pale like the rest of him, pale and slender but long. He stroked himself hard with purposeful movements.

"Join me, Commander Ivo?" 

Hallen watched in amazement as the Gherik-Shu quickly dismissed the serving slaves, whose job seemed to be done. Then he stepped next to Aimu, so that both were standing above the mewling Hollyhock. The Gherik-Shu's cock was just as long as Aimu's, but twice as thick. It had a big fat head like the overseer's, and Hallen shuddered at the look of it. The Gherik-Shu seemed less enthralled by the Hollyhock than Aimu, not touching himself at all. He simply stood there and looked at the glass skylight above as Aimu jerked himself off.

"You--haven't--chosen--a--favorite--Commander," Aimu panted. "Not--even--among--these--lovelies--"

Commander Ivo only grunted. Below him, the Hollyhock crawled tentatively forward and raised his pretty face up to the two men. Expectant. His slender hand continued to twist and hurt his testicles, tears appearing in his pretty blue eyes.

"You sound like Our Excellency," was all Commander Ivo said. "I thank Him for His generosity, but none of these is for me, I think."

"Not--even--the--pretty--Iris?"

Commander Ivo smiled. 

"No," he said.

"Commander--Lasse--is--missing--today--"

"Assigned a different task by the Divine One. In His Majesty He sees all and knows all, Aimu."

"Praise--be--!" Aimu cried, and then he was breaking off into curses and coming. Some of his cum spattered onto the waiting Hollyhock, who moaned like it was a benediction. But most of it Aimu directed into the Hollyhock's bowl, coating the boy's bread in warm cum, ruining it utterly.

The Commander then let loose his own stream. Acrid. All-too-familiar to the horrified Hallen, this yellow river. Hallen shook behind his column and watched with fright and dread as the beautiful Hollyhock bent his head and lapped it up, mewling. 

"He's a good one," Aimu said. "Aren't you, my little cumdump?"

He toed the Hollyhock's hand out of the way and ground his sandal into the boy's abused purple sack. The Hollyhock cried out, but was now too absorbed in eating handfuls of filthy, piss-and-cum soaked bread to otherwise note this as anything special.

Commander Ivo only grunted.

"Bathe him when you're done with him," was all he said. 

By now Ulikka and some of the others had come back into the room. Ulikka was absorbed again in petting the Poppy, forcing her thick fingers into his ruined little arse, next to the jeweled cock. The other two -- Jullskints both -- were arguing over a pretty Dahlia in the corner, each tugging on one of the Dahlia's tit-rings while she cried.

"Careful," grunted Commander Ivo. "No gift may you despoil, until He sees fit to grant it to you. Have they all eaten?"

"All but the Iris, Commander Ivo," said one of the Jullskints.

Ivo nodded. He picked up the last hunk of bread and turned now for the narrow little corridor. Hallen took in a sharp breath.

He could not go around the other side of the column -- for then the other soldiers would see. But he could not stay here, for soon Commander Ivo would be upon him. Trembling, he sank down to the floor and tried to stay still and small. The Commander walked right past him, undoing a heavy, jingling set of keys at his belt.

Hallen held his breath. The Commander was terrifying even from the back, with his broad brown shoulders and his powerful, well-muscled arms and legs. No wonder he had such a cock as he did, big and frightening. But he was disappearing down the corridor--

"Commander Ivo?" Aimu called sharply.

Hallen could have sobbed. The Commander turned at the call, turned and saw Hallen. His sloe black eyes narrowed. Hallen wished he could disappear, disappear into mud itself and be nothing but a smear on the golden floor.

"...what is it, Aimu?" the Commander said, coming forward as if he didn't see Hallen at all. His heavy feet seemed to shake the floor tiles. He came to a stop next to Hallen's column, and then his big brown hand was tangled in Hallen's hair.

_I see you_ , that said. But the Commander said nothing more. Instead Aimu said, "In His wisdom and His Divine generosity, do you think He would mind if I took this pretty slut to one of the private bathing rooms?"

"I think His Undying Grace wouldn't mind," Commander Ivo said, seeming to contemplate it. He tugged on Hallen's hair painfully enough to bring tears to Hallen's eyes. "In fact, you all did well this morning. Why don't you all take a private room for an hour? Tell the others as well. Geir and Keir, if you can't share that Dahlia then neither of you will have her."

The two Jullskints in the corner both groaned. But they each picked up the pretty girl by an arm and were heaving her off, down a hallway. Aimu was doing the same, dragging the Hollyhock by his collar. Ulikka picked up her Poppy and followed after. Hallen saw all this because Commander Ivo made him twist around and watch it. 

Then, when they were alone but for the carpet of beautiful slaves abusing themselves, eating like dogs on the floor, Commander Ivo hauled Hallen up.

Hallen was perhaps a third of his size. Beneath his rags his ribs jutted out, and his arms and legs were filthy with sweat and mud. The Commander must know he did not belong.

"What do we have here?" Commander Ivo said. "A little Marigold, I think."

He patted Hallen's red-gold hair. His other hand rubbed Hallen's face.

"Freckled," grunted the Commander. "Once we get the dirt off you. Very nice. And are you boy or girl or both?"

Then he turned Hallen roughly, his big arms groping below Hallen's rags. Hallen shrieked and struggled to no avail. Commander Ivo seemed almost disappointed when he found nothing but a strip of flesh between Hallen's bony arse and his modest cock and balls.

"Incomplete," said the Commander, and there was wicked humor in his tone. "But you know, little slave, that we can fix that up. This is the seraglio, and Xeo-Philia puts her stamp on everything here."

"N-no!" Hallen cried, frightened out of his mind now. "I can't be altered by the Clever Lady! I'm just a vegetable garden slave, Honored One!"

He would have once given anything to be as beautiful as a seraglio slave. But now he found himself crying. These creatures -- they were ruined. They were hardly human. What sort of honor was that? At least in his mud and dirt he still had his mind.

"A vegetable garden slave?" Commander Ivo was saying, his deep voice mock-horrified. "What's a vegetable garden slave doing here?"

"I--I was to find the Iris!"

The Jullskint had told him to. Lasse. Commander Lasse. Hallen found himself babbling about this, pointing out the blood-encrusted lash marks on his bare feet. Commander Ivo did not let him go.

"Ah," he said. "Then we should take you to the Iris, hmm?"

He held tight to the wretched, sobbing Hallen. One big hand ran over Hallen's concave belly, rubbing it in soothing circles. It was a strange gesture. Not painful. Not sexual. Hallen couldn't understand it. Commander Ivo rubbed and rubbed until Hallen stopped crying. Until Hallen was just limp and confused and expectant in his arms.

Then he bent and found the nearest slave-bowl, left abandoned after the Poppy had gone. He pulled out a carrot and handed it to Hallen.

Hallen took it, confused. He couldn't think what -- _why_ \-- the Commander was giving this to him, but then the Commander let him go. He stumbled a bit, falling to the floor, but righted himself. Then he looked fearfully over his shoulder at the commander.

"Go on," said Commander Ivo.

"I-in my arse?" Hallen asked. He knew it would go in his arse, forced up past the straining, abused rim. He deserved the punishment, for he shouldn't be here. But Commander Ivo had rubbed his stomach to soothe him. And said he would take Hallen to the Iris. As if he didn't want Hallen punished at all. So for a moment, Hallen dared dream--

Commander Ivo doubled over laughing. He had strong belly-laughs, rich and powerful ones.

"Your _arse_? What the fuck are they doing in the vegetable gardens?" he demanded. "Should I go join? Damn, sounds fun. No, Marigold. You eat it. You eat carrots."

He mimed eating it, and Hallen, struck dumb with gratitude, fell on the vegetable, tearing into it with his teeth, grateful for how crisp and fresh it was. He nearly forgot to prostrate himself and thank the Sun Over The Mountains for such a gift. Nearly. He remembered when he was done eating it.

Commander Ivo played with Hallen's hair as Hallen kneeled and whispered his entreaties and his gratitude. Begged forgiveness, too, for trespassing on His harem.

"Faithful," noted Commander Ivo. "That's good. Good, little Marigold. Now come on. Let's see the pretty Iris."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm. I wonder where Hallen’s gonna end up? 🤔 
> 
> Also, shoutout to ao3 user unikora for their fic “Seven,” which I have recced before and which reminded me that unwilling body modification is a fun kink!


	3. Divine Vessels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We love a dumb, traumatized hero who has no capacity to read situations because he lives in a horrific society rife with inequities, slavery, and unrelenting abuse!

'Pretty' did not describe the Iris.

The Iris was beautiful. His skin was burnished gold, as gold as the winding flower-ornament that kept his cock stiff and needy, never coming. His hair was a raven windfall, and his big eyes a deep, endless violet. His flower was stamped on his stomach, a nicely rounded swell. 

Hallen blinked at that. It took him a few moments to understand what that swell meant. 

He fell prostrate to his knees, his face to the lapis floor. The Divine Godhood might sometimes breed the women of His conquered lands, to make Himself a powerful, semi-divine Guard. But when He sired Himself on the harem, when He sired a child born here in The-Land-Between-The-Mountains, where the sun in its cradle always descended--

It was His next vessel. It was a new phase for the Lord Undying. On the day the child was born, Great Akheneus could rest His current vessel in a tomb of gold and marble, with the mummified bodies of His hundred most prized slaves honored to give their lives to honor Him. Then He would take up His next life in the Divine Infant.

And Hallen -- _Hallen_ was privileged to see this. To see the swell of new divinity. Tears pricked at his eyes. 

The Iris, meanwhile, was also crying. Sobbing, really. 

"You have a visitor," Commander Ivo told him, not unkindly. He grabbed Hallen's red-gold hair again and forced him to look up, so the Iris could see his face. "Friend of yours? No? Says he works in the vegetable garden, so I assume no."

The Iris did not answer. Could not. He was gagged. His hands were tied, and his golden collar was locked into a golden post in the floor, so that he was bent forward. His gravid, perfect body was otherwise manacled in place, manacled so that he was seated on a massive statue of the Lord Undying.

His cunt was speared on the great shining prick. He writhed on it, his lovely face red with exertion. Commander Ivo came forward and undid his gag, pulling out a golden cock so long that Hallen was astonished the Iris had been able to fit it in his thin throat.

The Iris gasped for air, still sobbing. Wet drool linked his pretty lips to the golden cock, just a line of it.

"P-please," he begged. His voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't used it in some time. "P-please." 

"Shhh," said Commander Ivo. "I know. I know. You don't want to go to the Clever Lady. I know."

The Iris said, "N--n--" 

Commander Ivo shushed him again. He pushed the Iris' long, straight dark hair back, wiped away the sweat on the Iris' brow. The Iris hiccuped, still crying, but Hallen realized now that his eyes were entirely lucid, unlike those of the other harem slaves.

"I serve His Divine Godhood," Commander Ivo said. "Serve Him faithfully and well. I always will. If there's treachery in your heart, little Iris, or in Lasse's, I don't want to know about it. Here. Eat."

And now he took the hank of bread he had stuffed in a pocket of his tunic and with big fingers fed it to the beautiful modified boy-slave. The Iris shuddered, crying silently now, and ate. 

Commander Ivo beckoned Hallen forward.

"Here he is. You're looking at the most favored of the harem, Marigold."

The Commander's words only made the Iris shudder again. But he was being so kind to the Iris, feeding him and rubbing at his tears the same way he'd rubbed Hallen's stomach, that Hallen dared to ask, "Why is he crying, Honored One?"

The Iris might be a slave like Hallen, but he was honored. Honored more than even Commander Ivo, perhaps. Honored to grow perfect divinity inside him. Perhaps that was why he wasn't so lost and fuck-dazed as the others, perhaps it was an additional gift the Lord Undying had given the Iris when He had gifted His most perfect seed and willed it to take root.

But the Iris didn't seem honored. He was still crying quietly around mouthfuls of bread.

Commander Ivo said, "He'll be taken to the Clever Lady and sequestered until he bears the Divine One. Then he'll be fucked to death, so his body can warm the cock of the Lord Undying's most recent vessel in the tomb. But he's rejected that great honor. So he's to be punished before the Clever Lady claims him. Aren't you, pretty?"

Something in the Iris' eyes went dead and shuttered.

"Y-y--," he tried. But for some reason he couldn't get the word out. 

Ivo shook his head. He kept stroking the Iris' beautiful hair.

"Well," he said. "Let me tell this little Marigold how they'll punish you, so he'll know how the Undying One mingles His mercy and justice.

"As the Lord Undying rides Zerrik each morning, Marigold, so that their spirits direct the sun in its path, the Iris will take his slut-slave place underneath them. He will be tied to Zerrik, and Zerrik will ride the Iris as the Divine One rides him."

It was an ugly, awful idea. It _was_ an honor, to be part of the ride that sent the sun up to the sacred cradle. But the thought of being involved like that made Hallen tremble. He had never seen Zerrik, but the Wild Horse God was said to be a massive beast, with burning-coal eyes and a coat of fire. Hallen clenched his fists and wanted desperately to wipe away the frightened tears in the Iris' eyes.

Commander Ivo did wipe them away.

"He has reasons for all He does, pretty Iris," he told the harem slave gravely now. "Even if they aren't clear. But know this -- you'll not escape anything He has decreed for you. So I'll leave you with this little Marigold. I suspect that whatever plans he, you, and Lasse have made can't overcome the will of the Divine One. In the Sun I do trust."

Here Hallen gave a start, however.

"I haven't made any plans, Honored One!" he said. "I--I was threatened with the lash, that's all. That is why I'm here! I would never betray the Divine Godhood, _never_ \--"

Ivo stepped close, so that Hallen could feel the heat off his big body and was dwarfed by his shadow.

"Do you think the Lord Undying doesn't know that? He's the Sun, Marigold. He sees all. And He's set you on a painful path. Lasse may kill you if you don't help the Iris, you know. Me -- I take no part of it. I trust in the King of Gods, the Sun Himself. He's staged this play. Will you die for Him, little Marigold? Reject Lasse and die, and you stop playing your role. Lasse will kill you and burn the corpse, so that your soul disintegrates and you become nothing--"

Hallen gave a cry of fright. Commander Ivo kept talking.

"Help Lasse and live, and maybe you'll then understand more of the God. He may punish you, but He will have created your choice for you, and that will be taken into account. For He creates every moment. All is in His sight."

And now the Commander's large hands had Hallen by the hips. He pulled the trembling boy in, so that Hallen was flush against him, flush against Commander Ivo's hard, terrifying groin. The Commander's hands closed on Hallen's backside, holding firm each meager arsecheek and kneading it until Hallen gasped aloud.

"I won't say you betrayed the Undying One, if you do help Lasse," Commander Ivo said. "That's my choice. I won't cast you as anything other than one faithful to the Divine One. I believe you _are_ faithful, little Marigold. I saw your faith in the main hall. But I know Lasse, and I don't wish your little soul to disintegrate in his hands. So I'll go now, so as to not know the choice you make, and so as to not betray the Sun Undying myself."

Then he dropped Hallen. The slave fell gracelessly to his feet, his head spinning. If he did what Lasse and the Iris apparently wanted him to do, he would betray the Divine One? Such a thought filled him with abject terror. He would deserve to be burned as a criminal then. But if he did _not_ betray the Undying God, and was burned anyway -- where did that leave him?

Commander Ivo, true to his word, offered no assistance in making this choice. Even though Hallen was now gazing at him tearfully. The Commander simply stepped to the door, his tread heavy and firm. He left the key to the room on the floor, and the door itself open, as he disappeared into the hall beyond.

"P-please," cried the Iris then, brokenly. "P-please, _please_."

-

While the Iris repeated that word, begging for aid, Hallen had discovered a set of keys under a broken tile in the corner of the room. It was identical to Commander Ivo's set. So it seemed clear that all Hallen would have to do to avoid being killed and disintegrated from existence was take one set, just one, and deliver it to Commander Lasse.

So that the Commander could steal the Undying One's finest consort, and with that take also the empty little Divine Vessel inside the Iris. It was a crime so great Hallen could scarcely contemplate it. Though he didn't want the beautiful Iris fucked painfully by the Wild Horse God, he wanted to assist in freeing the Iris even less, so great and profane would that betrayal be. 

But if Hallen didn't do it, perhaps Commander Lasse _would_ burn up his body and destroy his soul. If his soul was destroyed, he would never rise with the sun on the day of his death and drop into a new form, a better form, when it fell from the sacred cradle. He would simply -- stop. But if he betrayed the Undying One, what form could he expect to take upon rebirth? He was already as low as anyone could be. Would he be reborn in the prisons? In the mines?

In the end the choice was easy, and yet he was stiff with terror and upset when he handed Commander Lasse a keyring. Because he had been slow getting it, the Jullskint lashed him, lashed his legs and his back and his rear. Hallen felt that he deserved the pain. He had betrayed the Lord Undying. And Commander Ivo was right. The Divine One would know it. He knew all, because He saw all. So on the day of Hallen's death, Hallen would be dropped into an even lower form than he was now. Perhaps he would be reborn as a potato bug or a slug, and chewed to death painfully by a burrowing pig slave.

Hallen was restless and guilty for a week after. He was slow at his work, too, so that when the overseer returned he singled Hallen out for special punishments. Hallen took a lot of ginger that week, enough to enflame his sore back channel and make him thrash about in the mud, crying. Thrash beneath the bright sun, which saw all his sins. He hated this penance, but now understood it as well. Why had he been born to a kitchen slave, why had she died painfully in his arms, why was he fucked by pigs and pissed on by the overseer?

For this. The Divine One must have seen what Hallen was, inside. Must have seen that Hallen prized his own small, wretched soul above loyalty to the Sun Over The Mountains.

Must have seen that at night, in the filth and sweat of the slaves' pen, Hallen thought of the beautiful Iris and was glad he had helped him. Glad, too, to have seen the seraglio. He had learned something by it. All the favor of the Divine One was double-edged. Even a valued slave could expect no honor that was not simultaneously a punishment.

Perhaps that was why the punishment of being chosen to help the Iris felt so like an honor. Hallen would die in the vegetable garden, streaked with mud and pleasuring a grunting pig. But he'd helped one slave, just one, escape a far worse death.

He prayed as he worked now, muttered thanks and apologies to the Divine One near constantly. Prayed as he presented his rear to the sun itself, and prayed while he dug ditches. Prayed on washing day, on his hands and knees in the dirt while the overseer's fat cock split him open painfully. 

"Thank You, Undying One, this worthless one thanks You, this worthless one begs to understand more of Your mind, this worthless one will try to be better all his days, will welcome every trial, for I deserve it--"

The overseer grunted. His fat hand mauled Hallen's stiff, leaking cock, hard enough to bruise.

"You think the Divine One cares about a prayer from _you_? The Lord Undying doesn't spare a thought for you, slut."

Hallen prayed anyway, prayed despite the burn in his arse and the pain of his cock.

"Forgive me, Divine One, and punish me well for my errors so that I not repeat them, and guide me so that I may honor You--"

The overseer twisted Hallen's cock especially brutally as he came, came with a shout, his heavy cum mingling with the blood in Hallen's backside. He smacked Hallen's arse twice.

"He doesn't care about you, bitch!"

Hallen knew that. He knew that. He prayed anyway.

"Oh, Great Godhood, let me welcome the justice You give me, let me honor You henceforth, and make up for the wrong I did You--"

" _Ahem_ ," said a voice.

It was not the overseer's voice. In fact, now the overseer was scrambling off of Hallen with a yelp. Hallen simply stayed on his hands and knees, still focused on the Lord Undying and the evil Hallen had done Him, the evil Hallen both regretted and embraced.

A dark, long foot, impeccably clean in its golden sandals, settled itself before Hallen. Its mate found Hallen's head, and then the lord -- for who but a lord would be so clean, or wear such fine things? -- was pressing Hallen's face into the mud with his shoe.

Hallen put up no fight. He kneeled with his face to the ground, his bloody and ruined arse up for all to see. 

"Yes," said the lord. "This is the one, I think. Aimu?"

Hallen's stomach became a pit of dread. The pale Jullskint soldier's oily voice was instantly recognizable.

"That's the little one I saw sneaking out of the harem, Your Divine Grace. The day before Lasse and the Iris fled, taking Your potential vessel with them."

"Very good. That accords with My own suspicions," said the Sun Over The Mountains, still blessing Hallen by grinding his face into the mud with a sandal. "Commander Ivo?"

Hallen whined. He could not help it. The Commander -- the Commander _knew_ that Hallen was to blame.

But Ivo only said, "He was praying, Your Divinity. This little slave has great faith to offer You, I think."

"Thank you, Commander. You're always so good at not answering any of the fucking questions I ask you," said the Lord Undying.

"You know all the answers already, Exalted Akheneus," said Commander Ivo.

"Lovely. Thanks. Yes, I definitely do. It's this one that helped them escape. So what will I do with him? I ought to have him ripped limb from limb," complained the God. 

Hallen, who had been expecting no less, kept his sobs quiet, reserving them for the dirt. But now he could hear the overseer moving about, the rustle of clothes and the jingle of his whip against his belt.

"D-divine one! I punish this slave often and well, for he is very rebellious. It would be my honor to give him up to you--"

"Of course it would," snapped the Great Akheneus. "Why are you looking up? Did anyone tell you I wanted to look at your ugly face? You should go back to kneeling. It suits you better."

"A punishment would suit _him_ ," Commander Ivo said now. "The little slave was his to direct, and he failed in that. But the boy -- Your Divinity should consider--"

" _Don't_ tell Me to spare him," said the Lord Undying. "What would that look like? 'Oh, Akheneus, He'll let you get away with betraying Him if you're sad and sorry enough.' I think not, Ivo! No, I'll punish them both. The overseer to be sent to one of My prisons--"

The overseer's wail startled even the pig slaves, snuffling about in a nearby tomato patch. Hallen blinked at it, and awaited his own judgment.

"--but since the slave is property, and I hate, hate, hate destroying My own things without really getting some use out of them, we'll do something different for him. Yes! I know!"

The sound of divine fingers being snapped.

"My Iris was to play sheath for Zerrik during tomorrow morning's ride. Now this one will take his place, and please My fellow god as he was meant to be pleased."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee. That scene with Ivo sure was weird.
> 
> Also, will this story be dark? Yes, extremely. I feel like if you've read my other story you'll be like, 'oh, I know what they mean by dark,' but that is not what I mean. I mean darker than that.


	4. Justice and Mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so many bad things in this chapter! Uh, Enemas, bestiality with horses, extreme fisting, you name it. Please proceed with caution! honestly, for the course of this entire pic, please make sure to check the ever-updating tags and _proceed with caution_!!

Hallen was taken in manacles from the garden. The soldiers -- not the Elite Guard, simply regular soldiers -- were rough getting him through the halls of the palace, out onto a field of chamomile that let up fragrance as Hallen was dragged through it. Then they left him on the steps of a temple.

The Temple of the Clever Lady. Xeo-Philia, who ruled love and lust. 

Her acolytes were naked, oiled, and beautiful. They were all genders and none, all colors and heights and all body types. They dragged Hallen to a bathing room and stripped him, then dunked him into a pool, scrubbing at him to make him clean enough to take the Horse God. When he was clean on the outside, they forced a nozzle past his little rim. 

The water rushing into him made him cramp. It churned up his guts and filled him, swelling his belly so that he looked as gravid as the Iris had. He hated the way it sloshed in him even as the temple acolytes held him in place. He was filled, then made to walk to a drain set in the golden floor and expel the liquid, then filled again. No blood or human spend could filthy up his arse, not when it was to be offered to the Wild Horse God. 

He must have taken nine or ten flushes as the sun returned from the cradle. The temple's bathing room had high windows which looked out onto a great lawn and a row of fountains. As the Godhood returned His Divine Gaze to His Body, the lawns filled with lords and ladies. Such beautiful people. Reveling joyously. Some of them, Hallen knew, would be more than lords and ladies. Would be gods themselves. The Snow God and the Arbor God and the God of Taxes, the Bright Goddess of Seas and the Clever Lady. But he could offer no prayers to them, for he had been forced to take a cock-gag like the Iris' (though not so fine as the Iris') to keep him quiet. All he could do was rush to and from the drain, clutching his cramping stomach, while the temple acolytes laughed and lashed his feet if he spilled a drop too early.

The last time he cried his relief over the drain, feeling the punishing water rushing out of him, he looked out over the windows. Music was rolling off the lawns, much louder than it could be heard in the vegetable gardens. And a broad, familiar form was coming up the temple steps, away from the revelry.

Commander Ivo. Hallen was lightheaded and frightened, but felt almost glad when the Commander's heavy tread sounded in the hall outside the bathing room. He heard the Commander speaking low to some acolytes, and then the big man was shouldering his way in. 

Hallen fell to his knees over the drain and looked up at him. The Commander had let him make his choice, and had made his own choice not to betray Hallen to the Lord Undying. As he had said he would not. Though that had to be a mark on Ivo's soul. 

The Gherik-Shu was a large, scarred, terrifying man of indeterminate age. His brown calves were three times the size of Hallen's skinny arms, his sloe black eyes and craggy features were not handsome, and his big cock, even soft, was the ugliest and most unpleasant thing Hallen had ever seen. But Hallen was grateful to him. He bowed. He found the Commander's huge feet in their military sandals, and pressed his forehead to each one.

The Commander's big hand settled on his hair. He leaned down and undid Hallen's cock-gag, freeing his battered throat.

"May you be reborn as a god, Honored One," Hallen whispered hoarsely. "For the mercy you have done me."

He kissed the man's feet now, freely and without flinching. Commander Ivo passed a hand over his hair again. Then that hand migrated back, finding the loosened hole of Hallen's arse. Though it had taken the overseer's cock and so much painful flushing, it was not so loose that Commander Ivo's thick finger didn't bring tears to Hallen's eyes. The flesh there was so sore that the intrusion was not pleasant.

"Bring me oil," Commander Ivo barked to the temple acolytes. "I'll prepare him."

"Oil? Why waste oil on a garden slave? Especially when His Divine Godhood said this was to be a punishment," tittered one of the acolytes, "His blood will be an anointment--"

"I said bring me oil!" snapped the Commander. His free hand traced the grateful Hallen's spine, sending shivers along it, as his other hand worked its way into Hallen's rear. Hallen tried to relax around the finger being forced into him.

The temple acolytes dispersed to get the oil. Commander Ivo removed his finger, making Hallen gulp with relief, and then easily manhandled the slave up. Hallen blinked at him.

"I'll prepare you," the Commander said again, seriously. "Do you understand? Zerrik rides every morning, and every morning a slave gets tied to his belly and made to endure his cock as he gallops. Many die. But not all. The difference is preparation."

Hallen swallowed hard.

"Why are you being so kind to me, Honored One?" he dared to ask. He _would_ likely die, and die painfully taking the Wild Horse God's cock, preparation or no. But he was grateful that this man, an elite Commander, a freeborn member of the court, was still doing him such kindness. Even if he couldn't understand it, he wanted to understand.

Commander Ivo smiled. It made his oddly-shaped eyes look somehow dangerous, and sent a strange flutter down Hallen's spine.

"His Divine Godhood put you in my path, didn't He? He who sees all things. And He put me in yours. When the Sun In The Mountains arranges things like this, we shouldn't fight it. We should never fight it. I follow my faith in His plan, Marigold, and that faith's telling me to help you. Now come on, get on the stand."

There was a stand by the bathing pool, a pole with a collar, like the one the Iris had been fixed to. Commander Ivo adjusted the height, then directed Hallen to rest his bony knees on the cushioned floor, arse out and legs spread so his ankles could be manacled into place. The Commander then made him lean forward enough to lock his neck into the collar. Hallen's hands he manacled to the pole, so that Hallen could not thrash too much. He came around, too, and offered Hallen the cock-gag.

"Don't tell me you haven't sucked cock, Marigold. We all saw what that overseer was doing to you. Take this in you now, and I'll get the acolytes to fill it with nectar. You've had nectar before, right?"

Hallen shook his head as the heavy cock was slid in against his tongue, stretching his lips painfully and scraping the back of his throat. 

Commander Ivo's eyes crinkled.

"Huh. Only cock and carrots then, I guess. This will be a treat for you. You! Novice! I want him sucking on nectar to make him nice and boneless."

The Commander then rolled up the sleeves of his fawn-colored tunic. His forearms were bulging and brown. He ducked and washed his arms in the bathing pool while the acolytes hurried about. One of the acolytes came forward with a sort of pump, which he attached to the cock in Hallen's mouth. Hallen didn't feel anything different, except that after two minutes of pumping something into the cock, the acolyte said, "Alright. Should be enough to carry him through tonight. He can suck now."

"Suck," ordered Commander Ivo.

Hallen did. 

Something burst on the back of his tongue. Sweet. He choked on it, on the heavy taste. It was sweeter than anything he'd ever eaten before, sweet and somehow deeply satisfying in a way water from the cistern had never been. He sucked as best he could, throat muscles spasming, to get more.

It was _good_.

Commander Ivo chuckled.

"Good. Focus on that, Marigold," he said, as he settled in behind Hallen. His big hands found the rim of Hallen's hole again. He rubbed it, working oil into it. The slick wet of the oil on his rim didn't feel bad, not any worse than the heavy stickiness of the nectar in his throat. Hallen sucked and tried not to squirm. 

Commander Ivo's hands were all slicked up with oil, it felt like. The thick pad of his finger was now easier to take. It slid in greasily, right into Hallen's sore tunnel. Commander Ivo fucked it in-out. Got Hallen used to the way his arsehole throbbed over it.

It still hurt. But the nectar was doing something to Hallen. Making his eyes flutter, his cock stand at attention. Commander Ivo got a second finger in, also thick, and the pain was nothing to how fluttery and warm Hallen felt. 

Commander Ivo scissored his two fingers inside him, just to stretch him enough to take a third. Three fingers. The action would have forced a pained moan out of Hallen if his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied. 

"I serve the Divine One, but I'm a Gherik-Shu, and Zerrik was once the god of my people," he told Hallen. "Our only god. We were wild then, Marigold. We despised slaves. Most of us still do. But back then no Gherik-Shu raider ever fucked a slave, the way we all do now. Slaves were no better than dogs to us. Slaves didn't have true minds and didn't know freedom, and so they didn't have souls."

His big pinky and fat thumb had been worked into Hallen now. The nectar was making Hallen feel hot and drowsy, so he hardly realized that he was taking five fingers until, suddenly, Commander Ivo made them a cone inside him. This he forced in past the knuckles. 

Hallen whined around the cock in his throat. His arse was on fire, hurting horribly, and he could not make himself stop sucking for more of that sweet nectar, which seemed to at least take the edge off of the pain. Make the pain bright. Make it pain and not-pain all at once.

Commander Ivo's greasy hand worked in deeper. Hallen's breath was hitching. His cock was rock-hard. 

"The only way for a slave to gain freedom from the raiders, to prove he had a soul and should be elevated to human, was to withstand the ride. Even before Zerrik met the Divine One, it was his lot to gallop across the world, Marigold. And the raiders would celebrate the ride with him, galloping across the steppes on every holy day. On those days, slaves who wanted to could put themselves forward to be strapped to the horses."

He was in Hallen to the wrist. If the nectar weren't making it impossible for Hallen to do more than blink and take it, Hallen would have been taut and shrieking his pain. But he wasn't. He was blurry and boneless, and the Commander forcing in two more fingers from his other hand only made Hallen blink. Despite the way his arse twitched. That rough stretch, it only had him sucking even more feverishly at the cock in his mouth.

"Any slave who survived a ride would be deemed free," Commander Ivo told him, opening Hallen up, getting Hallen so full that tears appeared in Hallen's eyes. "They would be given horses, apprenticed to caravans. Allowed to mingle with the free folk, to marry and have freeborn children."

Three more fingers, up to the knuckle. Hallen couldn't understand it. The Commander's forearms were massive, and yet his skinny little arse was swallowing them up. His little hole must be stretched obscenely, sloppy with grease. The pain pounded at his head and he sucked and sucked the nectar, somehow knowing it would get him through. 

Then one of Commander Ivo's knuckles grazed his sensitive spot. Hallen jerked, making a wild sound. He was coming, spurting cum onto the golden pole holding him in place, onto the marble floor. 

"Surviving Zerrik won't buy you your freedom, Marigold," Commander Ivo was saying, as Hallen shuddered through his orgasm, as the Commander kept filling him, fisting into him, ruining him. "Just your life. And you want to live, don't you? I want you to live too. That's why, by the time I'm done with you tonight, you'll have a gape so damn big that a horse cock won't faze you at all."

-

By morning, he'd sucked down so much nectar he could barely walk.

And he'd come five times or more. Come until his cock hurt nearly as bad as his arse. By the time the Lord Undying's divine soul began again its ascent to the cradle, Commander Ivo had gone. But before he left, he'd destroyed Hallen's hole. It gaped obscenely. A part of Hallen moaned in shame, focused on that painful gape, when the temple acolytes took the cock out of his mouth.

But mostly he moaned because he didn't want the cock-gag out. He wanted it filled up with more nectar. Nectar made thinking of his sore, painful rim, nasty with how well-stretched it was, somehow _hot_. Hallen's cock was erect again, demanding. 

One of the temple acolytes slapped him twice. Hallen's head lolled, and he found himself giggling. 

Drooling, too. Distantly, he could hear the temple acolytes laughing about it. About him. But all he could think about was the emptiness in his arse. It was so well-fisted and so empty. When he was dragged out of the bathing room and down the Temple steps, all he wanted was for someone, anyone, to fill him. To stuff up that gape.

He felt the first rays of the morning sun on his naked body, the bruising hands maneuvering him, the grass of the lawns beneath his feet. Beyond that it was hard to make things out until he stopped moving. He was dropped to his knees by a paddock.

" _There's_ My little riding partner," said the Lord Undying.

Hallen -- Hallen was so stupid now that he actually looked up. He was not supposed to. He had no right to gaze upon true divinity. But he looked anyway, for he'd been fisted and drugged stupid.

Akheneus was radiantly handsome, even in the weak morning light. He had brilliant white teeth in his handsome dark face, and a powerful beaked nose well-suited to a God. His eyes were a striking grey-silver. He was just as tall as the Commander, but far less broad. Akheneus had the effortless, slender grace of the eternally young God He was. 

Hallen whimpered, needier still now.

"Oh, don't look at Me like that," the Lord Undying said, his wide, perfect lips curving in a smile. "You're not actually for Me, bitch. Not for Me at all."

Then they brought out Zerrik.

Hallen had seen horses before, of course, because horses were an essential part of the gardens. It had been one of the overseer's favorite games to test slaves by seeing if they could pull a plow as well as a horse could, and lashing them when they inevitably failed.

But those horses had been stocky, earthy things. Nothing but plain concentrated muscle beneath their dun brown coats.

Zerrik was red, a burnished mahogany that was lit to flame by the first rays of the day's sun. He was the tallest horse Hallen had ever seen, a beast that looked well-ready to trample any man who dared come near him. He snorted and pawed the ground, wild, and his black eyes rolled cleverly from acolyte to acolyte, as if wishing to find the weakest one, the one that would suffer most from a well-placed kick.

Only Akheneus was really able to approach him. The Horse God quieted before his Lord and most divine brother, allowing the Lord Undying to pass a hand over his flanks. Then Akheneus stepped aside, his golden tunic like a curtain being pulled back, and Hallen caught sight of the cock.

Zerrik's pole was enormous. Long as Hallen's whole torso, and so thick that even Commander Ivo's meaty forearm seemed small by comparison. Hallen let out a broken whine without really realizing it.

The Divine One laughed.

"Bring the slave slut over," he commanded, still patting Zerrik affectionately. "Zerrik needs a new sheath. Yesterday's didn't survive the ride. Let's see if this one does."

Then Hallen was being manhandled again. By now the sweet dulling bliss of the nectar was going, replaced with a terrible thirst. Even worse, he was starting to realize how badly his stretched arse hurt, and he felt it when he was thrown to the packed dirt beneath the horse. The slaves and acolytes ignored his cries as they pulled him into place. Pain shot along his arms and legs as he was tied to the restless animal.

Tied into place beneath Zerrik, his head falling back from the animal smell alone, his gaping arse lined up with the big cock. The temple acolytes then guided it _into_ him. 

Hallen was split open. There was no other word for it. He could have been fucked by a scimitar and felt less pain. The huge, hot horse cock was too big even for his loose hole. They got a mere six inches in, and it felt like his arse could take no more. But there was more -- so much more of it. 

He was crying in seconds. It wouldn't fit. It wouldn't. He begged and begged Akheneus, as if he had any right to beg something of a God.

"Please, _please_ , I'm sorry, I'm so sorry--"

"I'll bet you are," said the Lord Undying. "But you'll take all twenty-two inches. Thank Me for it, bitch."

Hallen was hard. His cock was fully erect, despite the pain. He gasped as the hands of the acolytes kept feeding him the big cock, sliding him into the painful place decreed for him. But his cock was so, so hard.

"Th-thank y-you, D-divine One--"

Zerrik gave a sniff and stamped his foot, and then he was rearing up. Hallen was secure enough that he didn't fall off, but the action slid him down further onto the thick horse cock.

Hallen's mind blanked out with pain. He wailed. The flared cockhead was deep in his guts now, and his sloppy, ruined arsehole was stretched tight around the thick shaft. When the servants got Zerrik to calm, there was no relief either. They just kept adjusting Hallen's ropes so he was forced deeper onto it.

"Get him good and snug," Akheneus called out. The Lord Undying was now leaning against the paddock fence and neatly eating pomegranate seeds, spitting them out into a silken kerchief held by a slave. He seemed bored by Hallen's screams of pain.

Zerrik, by contrast, was neighing and stamping, excited at the attention his big horse cock was getting. Hallen's hole clung to the massive prick, and the fit was tight. Too tight for Hallen, but apparently perfect for Zerrik. Hallen could smell now a more rancid, animal scent, and feel inside him the big head starting to leak precum. He gave a horrified cry at this. At the realization that Zerrik seemed eager to actually fuck him.

"Easy, brother," Akheneus called out then. "This is just your morning sheath, naughty. You know you don't get to fuck one of your nice, loose horseslut-slaves until _after_ we've ruined this one. Oh -- hello, Ivo."

Hallen's mind was on nothing but horse cock, on nothing but the pain and the smell and the insistent, perverted blood rushing to his own needy stand. But he couldn't help but twist in his bindings a bit, trying to find Commander Ivo. He blinked past the tears in his eyes. He was effectively looking at the Commander upside-down. Ivo appeared to have changed into a cleaner uniform and washed off his big forearms, and now stood at attention before the Divine One.

"He takes it well," Commander Ivo said, as if Hallen were nothing, just a tunnel of flesh for the horse to fuck into. Hallen cried harder now. Oh, Divine One. He was precisely that. He lifted his head weakly, and found that the massive prick was poking up into his belly. The head was distending him, visible beneath his skin.

One more jostle from the acolytes, and he was seated snug on it. His ropes were tightened, pain still shooting through his limbs, so he was tied up close to the horse's belly. There was no way to wriggle off. Only his head hung down, pain cricking up his neck as he sobbed and sobbed.

"Better than most, I suppose," Akheneus was saying, in the meantime. "But they almost never survive."

"And if he does, what of him then?" said Ivo.

"The _slave_?" said Akheneus, raising a perfect black brow. "Who cares? To the mines with him, I suppose. But it won't matter. He won't survive. He's not trained for it like the horse-sluts, and half of them don't make it past their first morning."

"Is that a wager, my Exalted Prince?"

And now Ivo was leaning in and speaking low. Hallen watched as Akheneus' lip curled again, and then the Divine One was nodding. 

Zerrik shifted forward. The big cock in Hallen jolted inside him, making Hallen give a ragged scream again. Then the Lord Undying was striding to Zerrik, climbing into the saddle of the Horse God with ease and experience. This left horse and Hallen shifting once more, pain blooming inside Hallen again. Hallen wanted to beg The Divine Godhood to please, please not do this. To halt the sacred ride.

But the sun was already peeking up, eager to be shown its path over the valley. Over the whole valley. The Lord Undying did this every morning, to show His Soul where to go. From one end of the kingdom to the other.

Restless Zerrik didn't wait to pick up speed. He went straight into a gallop, never mind the slave tied beneath him. Hallen's prick jostled snug against the horseflesh and came pitifully, painfully. And the huge horse cock deep in him jabbed and jabbed. 

It was like he was being beaten from the inside. His head hung low, jolting painfully, and every part of him took abuse, but especially his insides. He wailed, unable to take the pounding.

Eventually he passed out. Even as he did so, he knew they weren't even halfway done. He would take this fucking, take it for an hour more, until they'd gone the length of the sacred kingdom. Take it even if it killed him.

-

He didn't really come to.

He just... _twitched_. He could feel that twitch in every part of him. His hollowed-out body lay in the mud, beneath the harsh sun the Lord Undying had directed that morning. And he was twitching, spasming. 

Gulping for breath. 

His arse gaped even more now. Wet with blood and horse cum, drying on his bruised cheeks. He shuddered, broken. 

A shadow fell over him.

"Well, you win, Ivo," the Lord Undying said sourly. "He's not dead."

"By Your Grace, as all things are," Commander Ivo reminded him.

"Oh, sure," said the Lord Undying. "My grace, because I just love losing bets to you, you smug fuck. But a wager made is a wager to be honored. I'm pretty sure that's one of My laws or something."

"Goddess of Gambling's, actually," said Ivo.

"Who's she?" said Akheneus. "The one with the hair? Oh, whatever. Where do you want the tattoo, Ivo?"

And then Hallen felt that big hand on his backside, just above his arse.

"Have the Lady stamp him here," Ivo said. "Right here."

"Hmmm," said the Lord Undying. "A Tiger Lily?"

"No," Ivo said. "A marigold. He'll be your pretty little Marigold, Divine One. A Marigold I'll train up better than all the others. A Marigold I'll make Your best little slave yet."


	5. Part of the Pleasure Garden

He thought Commander Ivo was with him when he was taken back to the Lust Temple.

He couldn't be sure. They forced thick, musky liquid down his throat. It had a hint of the nectar, but not just the nectar. It took his pain away and made him so drowsy that every time he blinked he seemed to pass out, coming to in the chamomile field. In the bathing room. In the hallway by the statue of Xeo-Philia. 

On a table, with Ivo and four acolytes and a face very like the Clever Lady's -- painted, perfect, and plump -- looking down at him.

He could feel hands on him. Could feel something slicing _into_ him, into the head of his cock, but there was no pain. Still, he panicked and tried to thrash, and realized he was tied down again. Ivo's big hands were on the space just behind his ballsack, pointing something out to the Lady.

"--and the back hole will need tightening," she was saying, frowning. 

"--not permanent," Ivo replied. "--like a saggy back-cunt. And he can -- with exercises."

A sharp, pointed nail found one of Hallen's nipples.

"--your poison, Commander?"

"Enhanced milk--" Commander Ivo said, smiling slow and dangerous. "-- _leaky_ \--"

Hallen passed out again by the time they began cutting into his chest.

-

When he woke up, at first he couldn't understand what was different.

He was thirsty. He was so, so thirsty. The nectar sated him so well, but when it wore off he felt dry-mouthed and desperate, and only wanted more of it. He thrashed on the pallet he'd been thrown on, and found himself staggering off of it. Falling two feet to the floor.

He hit the lapis lazuli tiles with a thump, dazed and hurting. He blinked.

On the walls around him, beautiful slaves fucked themselves cruelly, stretching out their cunts. Hallen whimpered. He was in the seraglio.

And he was, he was--

He had _tits_.

They were large handfuls, large enough to have destroyed his balance when he'd shifted on the pallet. He stared at them, dumbstruck. His thirst was warring with an awful ache, the ache of these heavy, sore lumps. Milk beaded at the nipples. He took one and squeezed it, and gasped at the release when a jet of milk shot out. 

He began to cry. He'd been modified. He was scarcely himself now. His ruined arse no longer gaped, and the cheeks were much fuller, his hips a bit broader. When he looked over his shoulder he could just about make out a marigold tattoo right above his rear, stamping him as a pleasure slave. 

His cock -- his cock had been _shaved down_. It had been normal before, a man's cock even if it had belonged to a slave. Now it was a perky, thin little nub, stretched around a painful silver sound in his piss-slit. So much as touching that brought tears to his eyes. It hurt, and it somehow looked worse than it felt, because his balls had been expanded. Swollen. He had the ugliest, largest ballsack now, heavy as his tits. Sore and needy.

And that wasn't the only needy part of him.

There were those who felt that no slave, least of all a pleasure slave, could be complete without a cunt. That was why Xeo-Philia did such roaring trade with merchants and nobles. She could modify even their man-slaves to take cock and swell up with it. A slave that could be bred was worth ever so much more than one that could not be, after all.

So she had given Hallen a slippery little mound. A boycunt. The outer lips were flushed pink and opened a bit, a tiny bit, to show the thin inner lips and deeper slit. 

Hallen was horrified by it. Even though it gave him greater value. Even though he was worth more now, he was one of the beautiful ones. Even so. He had never wanted this. He was frozen in place on the floor, crying his heart out. He had never felt so helpless. He was -- he could not escape this. This was now his _body_.

And the pounding thirst wouldn't go away. That was the worst of it. He hungered for a drink, for nectar. He managed to stumble upright, despite the difficulty in finding his balance with this modified form. He seemed to be in one of the private cells of the seraglio, but when he touched the barred cell door it opened right onto the hallway, for it was unlocked. 

There was a fountain running through the center of the hall, tinkling water. Hallen dropped to his knees before it, back aching, mind spinning. And desperate to drink.

It did nothing. It sated nothing. He was so, so thirsty, and yet the water could not answer his thirst. He shrieked his rage and frustration at it. It did not make sense. His new body seemed to want something more.

There was a rustling sound, down the hall.

Hallen looked up. 

Through the tears streaking his face, he recognized the lithe, pretty form making its way to him. It was the Hollyhock. He was still glassy-eyed, his tongue lolling out. But he seemed to fix on Hallen as best he could.

When the other modified boy-slave spoke, his voice was raspy as if from disuse.

"...new?" he asked Hallen plaintively. "New...slave?"

Hallen nodded. He could not stop crying. The Hollyhock reached him and smiled. He settled on his haunches, his own ugly ballsack and tiny cock hanging between his thin legs. Seeing that made Hallen cry harder. They'd been given nearly the same modifications. The only difference was that he had tits, while the Hollyhock had been spared that leaky, milk-heavy indignity.

The Hollyhock ran slender fingers over Hallen's face.

"Shhh, shhhh," he managed. "....thirsty?"

Hallen nodded.

The Hollyhock blinked. He seemed to be trying to think. He seemed to be failing.

Still, after a few moments he said, as decisively as anyone so stupid could, "Nectar. _Nectar_. ...follow...me..."

Then he was turning, crawling away. Hallen tripped after him. The Hollyhock turned into another hall, this one like the one where Hallen had first seen him. Here the walls were lined with golden pricks at varying heights. The Hollyhock found one that could line up with his long torso and kneeled before it. He looked at Hallen.

"Nectar," he said again.

Then he was pleasuring the prick as if it were a man's. Bobbing on it, sucking hungrily. When he pulled back, Hallen could see the thick white liquid collected in his mouth. White as milk, thick as honey. The Hollyhock moaned at the taste.

Hallen moaned too, unable to help himself. He fell to his own knees before one of the golden pricks and began to suck.

Bliss exploded on his tongue. The nectar was viscous and good, easing the pain of his new tits and altered cock. He sucked and sucked for it. He hardly realized when his hips began to move, jerking as if they had a mind of their own. One of his hands found his leaking tit and tugged at it. The nectar made the pain of tugging his nipple feel bright and pleasurable, for all that it was still pain. With his other hand, he began to play with the awful little tube in his piss-slit.

Hurt. But now he liked hurt. His new cunt was leaking as much as his tits.

He scarcely noticed when the Hollyhock came up behind him and wound thin, comforting arms around him.

"...friend?" the other slave asked, after perhaps a moment to think.

Hallen nodded. 

He barely felt it when the little slave-cock entered his now-tight back ring. But he could hear the Hollyhock's happy moans as he fucked Hallen. Hallen moaned happily back.

He felt good. He felt so, so good.

"Friend!" shrieked the Hollyhock. "Friend!"

"Friend," Hallen mumbled around the delicious cock in his throat. _To_ the delicious cock in his throat. "F-friend."

-

Nectar made Hallen lose track of time.

He drank enough that his belly pouched out. In that time, the Hollyhock finished fucking him and just curled up next to him, watching him with happy, stupid blue eyes. 

When Hallen's thirst was finally sated, he wanted to say something to the other boy. But he found that he couldn't. He opened his mouth and forgot how to say anything.

"...friend?" he tried, because it felt safe.

The Hollyhock nodded, smiling.

That seemed to be all Hallen needed. A friend and these good cocks that fed him. And--and something else.

He squirmed. His cunt. It felt so empty. 

The Hollyhock had four fingers in his own cunt, fucking in-out with no care for how the flesh was red and abused already. Hallen's wasn't abused. It was pink, pretty, and tight. He tried to get even one finger in and the hurt made his head spin. But he didn't want to stop. He liked the bright nectar-feeling that came with the hurt. He keened, and managed to get his little finger in up to the knuckle.

The Hollyhock stopped him.

"...no," he said, looking like he was trying to think again. " _New_. G-god...God w-will... God...t-to f- _fuck_..."

He trailed off, like it was too much effort. But Hallen understood.

The Divine One. Their master. Thinking of His handsome form made Hallen even wetter. And this cunt, it was His. Hallen was His. Hallen was a valuable pleasure slave now.

With an untouched pink cunt. Never fucked down there. He slid his finger out, whining, as he realized what the cunt was for. He was far gone, but not so far gone that he didn't know who was meant to open him up down there.

-

He had no way of understanding how long it was before their Divine Master fucked him.

Sometimes light came from the skylights. Sometimes light radiated out from the golden floortiles. Either way, it was never night inside the seraglio. And even if it had been, Hallen would have been quite unable to count the days or nights. 

He needed. The nectar made him need. Made his limbs heavy and his cock insistent. Made his messy little cunt throb and throb. He knew, deep inside him, that this was not natural. That it meant he should stay away from the nectar. But if he went too long without drinking it, he became so thirsty. He always needed to find one of the hallways with the cocks then. Even if the need was bad, the thirst was worse.

And he understood now why they needed no guarding, him and the rest of the pleasure garden. Wandering too far away from the nectar terrified him. It would leave him so thirsty he might die. So he never went farther than the portico. He stayed right where he belonged now, right here in the fuck-halls, and played with himself when he needed to, and drank when he needed to. 

So most of the time he felt lovely and drowsy and lightheaded. Even if he had to tug on his tits and cock a lot. Even if sometimes his arse was fucked.

That was mostly the others. He met the others now. Hollyhock was only the first, and that was good that he was the first, because Hollyhock was his friend. Hallen liked stumbling upon him. They weren't so stupid that they didn't recognize each other. It was nice to kiss the other boy, and to have Hollyhock step on his ballsack. That whited out Hallen's mind with pain. He would find himself wailing happily, and Hollyhock would just hum, because he knew that happy pain, too.

Daffodil would give it to Hallen as well. She was golden-haired and pretty and if Hallen lapped at her cunt for her, she would brutally fuck the sound in and out of his little cock. And she understood his tit-pain. She would rub her sore nips onto his sore nips, and they would together whimper out a shared comprehension of how awful it was to always leak like they did. No amount of tugging on their nips ever seemed to dry them up, not either of them.

Calla Lily leaked too. But she was arrogant, and did not like Hallen. Did not like anyone. She sniped out with her nails and scratched up anyone who came close, and though the pain didn't bother Hallen as it should, the look in her eyes always upset him. It was a wild look, like she thought something was wrong. Hallen couldn't think what. But plenty of the others had it -- the Daisy-twins, the Nasturtium, even the blonde, black-eyed Sunflower. So Hallen had to stay clear of all of them. They were not true friends. 

Poppy was not either, but it wasn't personal like that. He was only a bit cold. Standoffish. Not cruel, but not a friend. His arsehole was his main modification, modified to be so sensitive that all Hallen had to do to make him sob was stick a finger in it. Any one of them could play the Poppy like that, make him cum with hardly any effort. So his big cock was always standing up and spurting, and that hurt the Poppy too. He liked to curl up away from the others to give that cock a rest, which was a shame, because he wasn't cut down like the other boys of the harem. The Poppy had tiny balls but a nice normal cock, a cock that could go deep enough to pleasure the spongy place in Hallen's arse. Hallen thus _liked_ the Poppy, and indeed he was the most popular boy in their harem whenever he bothered to exert himself enough to fuck the others. 

Human cock. Human cock felt different from the tentacle-cock in some of the pools. That was slimy and not half so thick. Even if Hallen liked the electric prickles the tentacles gave off, burning up his arse and making him scream in pain every time he remembered he needed a bath. And fucking the wall-cocks was nice, too. That passed some of the time between his nectar-feedings. Working his rear back onto the stiff pricks and fucking back with abandon. 

He was doing that one day when he heard a sharp sound.

Whistles. Firm, commanding ones. He blinked dumbly at them. He thought he knew what the whistling meant, but when he tried to reach for the comprehension, it wasn't there. Nothing was there but the honey-slick way the nectar made him feel, made him want the big golden wall-cock fucking him stupid.

He thus ignored the whistling. He kept fucking himself. He played with his heavy tits, too. He giggled at how he could make jets of milk hit the floor. His big sore handfuls were doing that. And probably someone would come along to lick up the mess, the black-haired Bluebell, maybe. He liked the Bluebell. She shrieked so prettily when he or the others twisted her big, cock-like clit. 

A heavy foot came down the hall. Stomping. Hallen blinked.

It was -- it was _him_.

Not Him. Not the Divine One. Hallen would not have forgotten anything about the Divine One, for Hallen was faithful. But this big, frightening man, Hallen had forgotten about him. The Commander. Commander Ivo.

Hallen took in a sharp breath of guilt.

He remembered now. He -- he had been bad. He ought to have been killed for it. He ought to have been fucked to death by that big horse cock that even now made him shrink in, hold himself and want to pray. He ought to have been sent to the mines.

But -- but Commander Ivo had _helped_ him.

Those sloe black eyes were watching Hallen now. Watching him come back to that realization. The big hand twisted in Hallen's red-gold hair.

"Settling in, Marigold?" 

That was who he was now. Marigold. Yes. Named by the Commander that had saved his life. That had asked Him to show Hallen-- No. The Marigold. Commander Ivo had asked the Divine One to show the _Marigold_ mercy.

The Marigold nodded. 

Commander Ivo held something to the Marigold's mouth, and it had been so long since he'd eaten that for a few moments the Marigold could only blink at it.

A carrot. 

He giggled despite himself. Commander Ivo cracked a smile too. It was their little joke, it was, even if the Marigold couldn't completely remember why.

Commander Ivo let him chew it, fed it to him like the Marigold was a farm animal. He chewed happily and smiled at the Commander when he could.

"Somebody's been guzzling up the nectar, huh?" said Commander Ivo. "I should've known. You're a born bitch, Marigold. I saw it on you the minute I met you."

Marigold nodded, more to agree than because he really understood what he was agreeing to. Commander Ivo fed him the whole carrot, then another. But the third carrot he was only allowed to take a few bites of. Then, when he'd shaved it down to a nice six inches, the thickest six inches, Commander Ivo pulled him off the wall. 

He whined as he stumbled forward, into the Commander's big arms. The Commander hoisted him up easily over his shoulder, so that Marigold's rear was in the air.

Commander Ivo forced the carrot in painfully past his pucker.

It felt so good. Scraping into him, hurting him. Until only the greens stuck out of his rear, no doubt looking like a little tail. Marigold writhed and made a happy sound at it.

"That fun?" said Commander Ivo. "That what you're used to, Marigold?"

"..ye...yeth," Marigold managed. 

He frowned. He'd taken so much nectar today that he knew that was wrong, but he didn't know why or how it was wrong.

But Commander Ivo seemed to understand. He slapped Marigold's arse with a big hand, the pain making Marigold jerk. Then his big hand massaged the sore spot. 

Marigold's little cock leaked onto the Commander's uniform. But Commander Ivo didn't seem to mind. 

"You know what comes next, right?" he said. "We get a collar on you. You're going to look pretty in a collar, Marigold."

Marigold nodded dumbly. Pretty. He wanted to look pretty for Commander Ivo. Ugly, wonderful Commander Ivo. His friend.

The big hand kept rubbing his bottom. It was nice. Marigold hummed happily.

"That collar is to lead you to the Divine One," Commander Ivo said. "To break in your new hole."

A big finger found Marigold's cunt. When it forced its way in, the pain was blinding and perfect. Marigold jerked and was coming from his cock, coming so bright that he nearly missed what Commander Ivo said next.

"Today, my little slut, you get to finally show Him all that pretty faith you have."


	6. Taking the Godhood

Marigold stared at the Divine Cock.

It reminded him of something. He couldn't think what. It was so big hanging there between those dark thighs. So thickly-veined. Big as a horse's. Big as--as--

A memory of such a pain in his arse, of begging not to be made to ride--

"Lick it, slut," said the Lord Undying.

Marigold kneeled before Him and got his tongue on the big dark cockhead immediately.

This was his God. The highest God. Though he knew nothing, he knew that he was tasting divinity, that he was being honored beyond his wildest dreams with the taste.

Sour, and overpowering. The handsome God had been riding this morning, it seemed, and his powerful body was covered in sweat. Marigold lapped at the sweat, his little pink tongue hardly any match for the obscene prick. Lapped and lapped, letting the sour smell and taste fill him. Worshipping the big cock, watching in amazement as it went hard and got even bigger beneath his worthless slave tongue.

"He's not bad," observed Akheneus, as Marigold did his slut-slave work. "I had thought he wouldn't survive the modifications."

"Another wager Your Grace elected to lose to me," said Commander Ivo.

They were in a vast part of the palace, vast and golden, with couches and platters of food set out along the great columns. A high golden seat stood at one end of the room. Akheneus had been sitting there, but had come down and stripped off His clothes, uncaring of His divine nudity, in order to give Marigold the honor of licking His prick. Marigold gave a grateful moan to realize this.

Akheneus did not sound grateful.

"You're such a smug prick. All Gherik-Shu are smug as fuck. That's why I can't stand any of you."

"And yet _I_ adore you, Exalted One. Don't I pick out the nicest presents for you?"

Akheneus snorted.

"For me? Fucker, please. I told X.P. to go ahead and trim him up however you liked, didn't I? I don't ask for tits this big."

"Your generosity has not gone unnoticed," said Commander Ivo. "But _I_ asked the Clever Lady to trim him up the way _you_ like. I don't go in for a tiny cock and a big ballsack."

"Your loss," said Akheneus. "I may hate X.P., but she knows how to make them look hilarious down there. Like little animals. It's how slaveboys should look, if you ask me. And you should. He's my damn slave."

The Divine sandaled foot now nudged at Marigold's straining cock. Akheneus ground it into the floor, making Marigold weep a bit. The pain was exquisite. Horrible, consuming, and _so_ what he needed. He wished he could thank his Divine Lord, but he'd been told to lick cock and that occupied his mouth. Akheneus fully hard was a task indeed, so much hard, smelly cock that it made Marigold's empty little head spin.

Commander Ivo's firm fingers wound into his hair. He began to guide Marigold. Getting him lathing up and down the shaft. Drooling on it. 

"Your slave," Commander Ivo agreed. "Now, is it me, or is that slave in the corner kind of piglike?"

"Su-Khe-Choiros," the Lord Undying said grimly. "And that stupid fuck cleaning the throne is a Lust Temply acolyte if I ever saw one. I ask you, if My god-brothers and sisters are bold enough to send spies into My own house, can't they be smarter about it? At least if they were smarter, I wouldn't know I was being watched all the time. And it's such a chore to execute the dumb fucks. They just replace them with new ones."

"The Temple of Lust probably just wants to know if You're getting any use out of Marigold here," Commander Ivo suggested. His hand was painful in Marigold's hair. Wonderfully painful, just like the heavy foot on his pathetic little cock. He shook happily. Commander Ivo made him lick all the way down to the large sack and the bush of black pubic hair.

Sweaty. He lapped and sucked, out of his mind with worshipful happiness. 

"Of course," Akheneus was saying, sounding annoyed. "Well. He'll have a womb to go with the cunt."

"I watched the modification myself," said Ivo. "Fascinating. Had no idea there was so much plumbing that went into it. They had to break his hips and rework them to fit it all."

"Yes, and the nectar makes them fertile, too," Akheneus said. "There's no point if they're not fertile."

He shoved Marigold off. Marigold fell back, dazed. Sprawled on the floor, awaiting His next order.

"Ass up," said Akheneus. "Come on, bitch."

This position made intuitive sense to Marigold. Bowing with his cheek on the cold floor tiles and his holes up. Legs spread, so the Lord Undying's huge member could enter him. 

His cunt was slicked-up and hungry for it. He trembled with anticipation. The honor of it. He would be taking such a huge, hard, holy cock. The Divine Godhood.

He hoped it hurt him terribly. The last shreds of buzzing nectar in his brain made him long to hurt.

"Well, fuck," Akheneus bit out. " _That's_ a pretty pussy--"

"They don't call her the Clever Lady for nothing, Exalted One."

"Shut up," said Akheneus, without any real heat. "It's been a while since I broke in a new one. I forgot how closed-up and sweet they look when they're new. Little fat lips like this--"

His merciful, exalted hand rubbed Marigold's outer flaps. Marigold whined happily, cunt leaking his gratitude.

"--you'd never guess how easy it is to ruin them. But this is a dirty hole, isn't it, bitch? It _wants_ to be ruined."

The Divine One slapped Marigold's cunt once, twice, three times. Getting it throbbing, and Marigold shrieking happily. 

The big Godhead rubbed past the outer lips. Rubbed right on the tight slit, up and then down. It felt too huge. Marigold took in an expectant breath.

Then the Lord Undying fucked into him. Forcefully, with no care for the pain He was causing. The motion gave Marigold no time to adjust. His breath was knocked from him. 

His cunt was spasming, honoring that great godly pole. Blood dripped down his quivering thighs. The Divine Godhood fucked into him like an assault, fast and merciless. The pain was absolute. 

Marigold forgot that he was supposed to be Marigold. For a moment, he was just worthless little Hallen, and he was crying. He had a cunt he didn't want, and there was nothing but pain in it. 

Commander Ivo's big foot stepped before him. The heavy shadow banked him, and then the big hands were forcing a rubbery prick into his mouth. He sucked on instinct.

Nectar. Exploding into him. Reminding him that this pain was right. It hurt no less, but now he liked it.

His name was Marigold, and he was so, so lucky. So honored. He was bleeding and spasming. Having broken wails fucked out of him. 

Being split apart by the Divine Godhood Himself.

-

Eventually Commander Ivo and the Lord Undying moved to another room, a smaller one, with a huge window that looked out over the gardens. They sat on silken cushions on either side of a low table, and discussed a great many charts spread before them.

Marigold didn't process anything they were saying. He was nectar-stupid. He rubbed his sore tits on the big cock that had destroyed him, and licked the blood and cum that clung to it.

His blood. Blessed to mingle with Divine cum. His cunt -- that pretty _pussy_ , as he had been honored to hear the Lord Undying call it -- was red and dribbling more cum. He pushed his thighs together to try and catch it, keep it in. He loved the way his belly was even a bit bloated with it.

Full. Full of Divinity. He moaned around the cock in his mouth.

Akheneus was now filling a fine jeweled pipe with something heady and spicy-smelling. He paused, and His exalted hand played through Marigold's hair just like Commander Ivo's had.

"A Marigold to replace my Iris," He mused. "Not as pretty as the Iris was. Damn Lasse for his good taste. But this first fuck was somehow even better. They're all tight on the first fuck, but something about this one was-- I don't know--"

"A little _sadder_ ," Ivo suggested slyly. Clouds of spicy smoke came from his direction, filling up Marigold's nostrils, for Ivo had filled his pipe as well. "The others -- they're Your tributes. They were trained professionally in their lands. We Gherik-Shu spent years getting the Iris ready for you. It made him stuck up, like most of them are. Stuck up under all the nectar. But this one, he's not like them. He's humble and faithful. He worshipped You from the start."

"And that's what makes your big ugly cock hard, brother?" said the Lord Undying, chuckling around his pipe. 

"You have no fucking _idea_ , Divine One," Ivo replied, humor in his own tone. "It's like my horse. He came from good raider stock, so he was primed to be broken. Breaking him only made him suit me better. Made him stronger, even as it bound him beneath me."

"Hm," said Akheneus, seeming to consider this. "Don't know that I would call any slave strong."

Marigold had by now finished cleaning him, but was still massaging his tits into the big cock. Suckling the head outright. It still had such a musky, sweaty smell. It made him so happy.

"If they're not strong, what good are they?" Ivo countered.

"Spoken like a true Gherik-Shu," said the Lord Undying. "Lasse is now on the Dokkenai continent, you know."

"All the better," said Ivo. "Let's raise a pipe to conquering the Dokkenai."

"My _mother_ was a Dokkenai."

"Your mother was sold into slavery by the Dokkenai's ruling council, because their so-called 'free' land is a farce. Thanks to those dangerous hypocrites, she's currently mouldering in a tomb where she warms the withered, mummified cock of Your last vessel. So sit back, get Your cock sucked, and listen to me, Exalted One. Here's how we're going to conquer the fucking Dokkenai."

-

Marigold was used twice more by the Godhood, and offered nectar three more times by Commander Ivo. 

Soon he was just lolling about on the floor by the table, fucking the sound into his own piss-slit happily as the God and his soldier talked and ate. 

Commander Ivo brought a piece of bread to Marigold's mouth. Marigold blinked and chewed it. It had a soft, sweet-cloud sort of taste. The easy sweetness was a nice complement to the fire painfully engulfing his battered little cock. 

"Aimu always flavors it before giving it to his toy," noted the Lord Undying.

"Aimu's disgusting," said Commander Ivo. "And You haven't said yet, Your Divinity. If this is my toy. He's _Your_ slaveslut, after all. He took Your holy cock in every hole. He's bled on Your pole twice and thanked You for it."

Marigold blinked again. Commander Ivo sounded proud. Proud of him. A slaveslut. 

"F--" Marigold said.

He couldn't get the word out. His tongue was dumb and heavy. He couldn't think right. And his throat had been fucked sore.

He tortured his little cock until the pain was a bright ball, opening his mind up a bit. 

"F-friend," he managed. 

But it was so low and raspy that neither Commander Ivo nor the Lord Undying heard him. But still. Still. The Commander was a friend, like Hollyhock was.

"Did watching Me fuck him really turn you on, Ivo?" the Lord Undying was saying. "You're My strangest brother, you know that?"

"And hopefully Your dearest," Ivo said. "Watching him in general turns me on. When that hair gets long, it'll be like silken fire around Your cock. And You can rub Your prick on each of those little freckles. If I had him, I'd make it my mission to connect those dots with cum while he stuck his little tongue out, begging to suck me down."

"Be My guest," said the Lord Undying. "You want a toy, you've got a toy. The mouth and the arse, anyway. The cunt's always Mine."

"The womb is always Yours," Ivo said swiftly. "As it should be. A slave-slut's womb and its broken mind always belongs to You--"

"You were just complaining that most of them are stuck up," said Akheneus wryly. 

"Not this one," Ivo countered. "Not this one. I liked his normal self quite a bit. Liked the shy little light in his eyes. I would ask You to put it back there again, if I thought I could make such a request--"

Alheneus laughed. He then took a long drag of his pipe, and the cloud of spicy smoke rolled over Marigold, making him cough a bit. No one noticed that, though.

"They take the nectar until their bellies swell," Akheneus said. "You know that."

Ivo set his own pipe on the table. He turned so he was leaning over Marigold. Marigold stared up at him, at his craggy, harsh features and dangerous dark eyes.

"Would you like that?" Commander Ivo asked him. "Wouldn't it be an honor? Fucked open by the Great Akheneus--"

Akheneus groaned, for some reason.

"--filled up by Him, bred, _seeded_ with divinity? A little vegetable garden slave. Raised on carrots and unwashed cock. Full of the _God_. Wouldn't you love that?"

Marigold was nodding furiously. Happy tears were in his eyes. He nodded and nodded and nodded.

"Ye-yeth, C-co--"

The Commander's rank was too long for his nectar-dulled tongue. He couldn't get it out. But he kept nodding happily, stupidly. He stopped playing with his cock and put his fingers to his sloppy cunt, spreading the lips. 

"P-pleath--"

"Fuck!" Commander Ivo said. He was undoing his leggings, pulling out his huge cock. Ugly and terrifying, thicker if not so long as the God's. Marigold's mouth watered when he saw it. 

"Look how badly he wants it," the Commander said. "Let's take him together, Exalted One. Please."

Then he was pulling Marigold up off of the floor, arranging the slave boy to face outwards. Marigold whimpered as his sore back pucker was impaled on Commander Ivo's big cock. The blood made it go in slippery, and the stretch fed addictive pain straight to his hungry-nectar brain. He heaved up great, happy breaths, his torso shaking.

Commander Ivo's big hands guided his fingers back to his cunt. Opening him up again.

Akheneus sighed. The handsome God set His pipe down on the table, like Ivo had. Then He came forward. His long cock was already half-hard. He lined it up with Marigold's sore little pussy.

"Remind me why I always do everything you want again?" groused Akheneus. " _I'm_ the God, you know."

"My God," Ivo agreed. "And it's because I love You. I have loved You since the moment my sweet slut mother cried over me, knowing I would be given up to the Undying Court. Certainly since I saw Your Divinity toddling about, and knew You for my brother, borne of the same Divine Father out of a slave-slut in the pleasure gardens. Now please, Exalted One. There's a whimpering little cunt that needs you."

The Lord Undying shoved in again. Marigold felt the moment when the big blunt head punched the back of his tunnel, seeming to meet the fat cock in his rear. He opened his mouth to shriek his joy, but could only gurgle. 

Two huge cocks were in him. Fucking in, first one, then the other. So he was never empty, and never free of pain. He bounced between them. His dirty holes stretched wide, never to be pretty again, not after this fuck. Cum and blood squelched out with each thrust, running down his thighs. 

Akheneus grabbed Ivo's hand. This was not about Marigold. Even Marigold's dull little mind knew that. This was about the Elite guardsman, the Commander. Marigold was nothing but a sack of flesh for Commander Ivo to touch his God.

Marigold tried to smile. But the nectar made his tongue loll out. Still, he was glad.

This was the least he could do for his friend the Commander.


	7. Lucky

After this, it was clear that he belonged to Commander Ivo as well as the God.

He was a claimed slave. That was what he and the other slave-sluts seemed to settle on. Or at least what they tried to communicate to each other, when they could. When they could have conversations.

"G-god?" Hollyhock asked, when Marigold came back with his cunt ruined and crawled over to show it to him.

Hollyhock giggled. Then one of the pool-tentacles zapped his arse. His eyes rolled back in pain and bliss. Marigold settled in front of him to watch him get fucked. He liked to see his friend happy like this.

"L-lucky," Hollyhock managed, when he was done shaking in pain. Piss ran down his skinny legs, as if his whole body had given up under the tentacle-burn. Marigold knew this meant he'd have to climb into the pool to clean himself, and _that_ meant he'd just get more tentacles in his holes. Hollyhock was having a really good day today.

But not as good as his day. He nodded shyly and got onto his own hands and knees, turning around so Hollyhock could see his wrecked holes. Both of them. 

"L-lucky," he echoed happily. He'd had the God in every hole. Anointing his filthy body with true Divinity. He wasn't just lucky, he was _blessed_ , even if his mind couldn't figure out how to say a word that complicated.

Hollyhock stretched out a skinny hand to Marigold's gaping arse.

"O-oooh," he said. Possibly because of the gape, and possibly because now, when Marigold looked back at him, it was clear a tentacle was squeezing his ballsack purple.

"C-co--" Marigold tried.

No. That word was still too long.

"Ivo," he decided.

The God had given that hole to Marigold's friend, Commander Ivo. Marigold was pleased about that. 

Ivo might be ugly, but he was kind and merciful. It was an honor to be shared with him. And his big cock was somehow even more brutal than the Godhood was.

"I-ivo?" shrieked Hollyhock, as if this were too much to be believed. "C-claimed?"

Marigold nodded. Yes. Yes, he'd been claimed by the Commander.

"Ivo d-do--" Hollyhock began. He broke off. Marigold turned around again to look at him properly. A tentacle was around his throat, cutting off his air. Hollyhock's little cock was so hard at it that Marigold was jealous.

It took a few moments before Hollyhock was allowed to breathe. He was left purple-faced and gasping. Marigold crawled forwards and kissed him, to encourage him a bit.

The tentacle that had been choking Hollyhock wound itself around Marigold's hanging right tit. Squeezed. Milk shot out. Marigold whined at the mingled relief and hurt. He hoped another tentacle would bind up his left tit, too.

"I-ivo claimed y-you," Hollyhock said now, a bit incredulously. "I-ivo n-never-- N-no s-slave g-good e-enough. For. I-Ivo."

"L-lucky," Marigold said shyly.

"Y-yeth--"

A tentacle had wound itself around Marigold's left tit, so that both were bulging purple mounds letting out a steady stream of milk. The one wound about his right tit then probed Hollyhock's open mouth. But after shocking the skinny blond slave only once, it abandoned that and then undulated down to Marigold's sore cunt.

Marigold reached back and spread his reddened, dirty cunt lips for it eagerly.

"'m c'claimed t-too," Hollyhock said agreeably. "A-Aimu--"

"L-lucky," said Marigold, to be supportive.

"L-lucky!" shrieked Hollyhock. The tentacles had gone electric again. All of them, all at once. The slaveboys were shocked from every angle, burned in their cunts and ballsacks, ropes of burn around Marigold's tits. They screamed together happily. 

So, so lucky.

-

Poppy was claimed too, by Ulikka the guardswoman. And Daffodil was claimed by a guardswoman named Reyee. And Bluebell was claimed by a guard called Fedorer, who tortured her so prettily during feeding time that Marigold was almost jealous.

Almost.

Ivo was the best one to be claimed by. Marigold had more respect from all of the other slave-sluts now that he was claimed. But many of the unhappy ones, like the Calla Lily, still sneered at him. Until they realized he'd been claimed by Commander Ivo, who for years had never claimed anyone. So now even the Calla Lily didn't shove him off, but treated him with enough grudging respect that sometimes she even fisted his cunt for him.

It was as perfectly destroyed as all the other slave-cunts now. Marigold was proud of it. It showed that he really belonged to the pleasure garden.

Through many halting conversations, he'd learned that the different harems served different purposes. The horse-sluts were meant to please the Godhood and Zerrik on their morning rides. The cat-sluts were offered out to nobles in favor with the Lord Undying, as little pets. The human men and women could be bartered to foreign dignitaries, sometimes packaged with specific modifications meant to show that the Sun Over The Mountains favored -- or disfavored -- specific foreign powers. 

All of this was sometimes hard to keep in his nectar-dumb head, so sometimes he forgot it. But he never forgot what he and his friends were for. They were the most favored slave-sluts. The flowers of pain and pleasure, meant to be His personal breeding slaves. In this, they were elite. That was why they could _only_ be shared with the Elite Guard, the vicious Jullskints and powerful Edombe. The Gherik-Shu. Their weekly meals were handled by corps of the Elite Guard, and their cleaning sessions, wherein they shrieked as nozzles were forced into their holes and they were made to cramp around flush after flush, were similarly handled by His Divinity's own brothers and sisters. When they needed training, needed to exercise their sore holes to tighten them up, that too was usually handled by three or four Elite Guards.

Marigold thought that possibly there were multiple corps. He couldn't be sure of that. He couldn't be sure of anything. But it seemed that below Commander Ivo there were four or five corporals, and below them there were the battle-born, the rank and file. Altogether, the Elite numbered about a hundred, which meant that Marigold didn't see Ivo at every feeding. Sometimes he heard about him, though. Usually because the other Guards were joking about some campaign he was on somewhere.

"Ivo ordered the whole fucking city sacked and burnt," laughed one big Edombe guard who was whipping the Calla Lily as she tried to eat, getting her slave-cunt nice and wet.

Marigold watched this jealously, head bent over his own bowl.

"Well, that shows the Dokkenai what we think of their allies, then," said a slender Gherik-Shu woman who had forced the boy-Daisy to lick her feet. "Pity. Truenka was said to be a beautiful city. But the Palm Tree God's come to heel now, at least. He'll betray the Dokkenai if he knows what's good for him. It's never good to offend the Divine Godhood by striking up alliances with His enemies."

The Edombe laughed again, his whip whistling through the air as the Calla Lily sobbed. 

Marigold crawled up to him shyly, wanting some of that for himself.

"Never good to offend _Ivo_ ," said the Edombe, bringing the lash down and getting a scream out of the beautiful slave-slut. Then he noticed Marigold kneeling at his feet. "Oi, speaking of! Shove off, little Marigold. I'm not touching you. I don't have a fucking death wish."

-

It did seem that, whatever campaign Ivo was on, it took a long time. Marigold still couldn't really mark time, but he waited so long for his friend that soon he completely forgot what Ivo even was. All he knew was that he was Ivo's as well as the God's, and that this meant he didn't get whipped or fucked quite so much as some of the others.

Which was a pity. He and Hollyhock would curl up together after feeding times and commiserate, kissing each other sadly as they shoved their little cocks together. 

"A-Aimu," Hollyhock would sob. "M-miss him--"

Marigold petted his friend's pretty pale hair. Today he'd taken so much nectar that he didn't know what an Aimu was, but he knew it was important to Hollyhock.

Hollyhock's little tongue poked out sadly. It was bright red, like Hollyhock's swollen mouth. They'd both sucked down a lot of nectar today, and then shyly crawled to the pools to be electrocuted in their mouths and cunts and arses. All of Marigold's body was sore from the after-effects of so much shock to his holes.

Now they were alone together in one of the snug little cell-rooms with the barred doors and the soft pallet-beds. Marigold let himself enjoy the silk bedding, and snuggled up close to his friend. He trapped his big, hurt tits between their bodies, hugging Hollyhock so tightly that sticky milk dribbled onto their chests and stomachs. Hollyhock fucked up and his tiny cock slid into Marigold's cunt. So tiny that Marigold hardly even felt it. 

Marigold giggled. 

Hollyhock was so _funny_.

They rutted like that for a while, until Hollyhock forgot why he was sad and began making sweet little noises. Marigold kept laughing, because the tiny thing inside him was like a pinky finger. Only, not a real man's pinky finger. That, Marigold knew could be thick. Could hurt. This was just a small little slave-member, pathetic and weak. Just like Marigold's. 

They didn't really note it when the whistling came.

One insistent whistle, that was exercises to tighten them up. Two whistles close together, repeated -- that was mealtime. 

Three like this? Three meant cleaning.

But Ivo had been gone for so long. Marigold had stopped caring about the whistling, stopped coming to the main hall when called. He would rather hold his friend now, until Hollyhock let out the watery shoots of thin slave-cum he had stored up in his swollen balls. 

"G-good, Holly?" Marigold asked him.

He loved Holly so much. He wanted nice things for Holly. That was why he found one of Holly's nipples with his fingers and ground the nails right into it, knowing this would make Hollyhock stupid with delighted pain.

"G-good, Mari!" his friend shrieked. "Good! Mari! Mari!"

"What the _fuck_ is this?" came a slick, oily voice.

Then they were being pulled apart. The slaveboys fell stupidly to the floor. Marigold blinked up at the big shadows above them.

Two Elite Guards, still in the mud-splattered uniforms of men that had just come back from campaign. One was a Jullskint, and Hollyhock was joyously kissing his dirty sandaled feet. And the other--

Ivo. _Ivo_.

Oh, it was his friend. Marigold's friend. Marigold cried out, remembering him now.

His good, kind friend. Marigold crawled to the big bulge in Ivo's leggings and pressed a sloppy kiss to it. He was remembering what the veiny, ugly cock looked like. Felt like. How could he have forgotten it? It had used him so roughly.

The Jullskint, meanwhile, brutally backhanded Hollyhock. The other slave-boy fell to the floor again with a shriek.

"Easy, Aimu," said Commander Ivo. "It's the nectar. You know they get stupid. And punishing him won't make a difference. He'll only like it. Better to be merciful with them in this state."

"Says the man who burned down a city," snapped Aimu.

"It was His Divine will," said Commander Ivo mildly.

His heavy fingers twined themselves in Marigold's hair. He said, "You want to play a game, Marigold? Let's play a game while we clean you, hmm?"

Marigold nodded. 

Cleaning. It was cleaning time. And Ivo was here to clean him, and they were friends, so they would now play a game.

When Ivo took him by the collar and dragged him out into the hall, he didn't fight it. Even if behind him he could hear Holly shrieking, and he was jealous that Ivo wasn't making him shriek, too.

The cleaning halls had cocks jutting up from the floor, instead of just from the walls. When they were forced to sit on them, and the Guards stood by with their feet on the pedal-pumps nearby, the slut-slaves would find themselves pumped with frothy, hot water. Soapy, too. Sometimes the soap would hurt their sore channels. It was a lovely hurt. Marigold loved cleaning day. 

Commander Ivo found him a nice thick floor-cock. When he directed Marigold to it, Marigold sank down without complaint, feeling how it stretched his arse stupid.

He laughed. Every day in the seraglio was a good day, but today -- today was a great day.

"Damn, how much fucking nectar did you take?" said Commander Ivo. 

He started to pump Marigold full of water. Marigold locked eyes with him and smiled as his stomach cramped up. The soapy water rushing into him was so horrible, he hoped Ivo would make him hold it in extra-long.

"Want a cock in your mouth?" said Ivo.

Marigold nodded, tears of happiness coming to his eyes. He put his hands on his rounding belly, to feel the nice swell of the water, and opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out.

"Aa-aah," he said, expectant.

He thought -- he _thought_ he could remember that Commander Ivo wanted this. Connect-the-dots with freckles. While Marigold begged for the big ugly prick.

But for a few more minutes Ivo just pumped and pumped him. His stomach became a mass of hurt, full of soap slick. Then Ivo stopped pumping the pedal in the floor and turned to the wall.

Somehow, he managed to unscrew one of the golden wall-cocks. Nectar bubbled up from the hole in the wall, a fountain of good thick stupid-juice. Marigold moaned at the sight.

Ivo came forward, undoing his leggings with his free hand. His large soft cock, nestled in its den of coarse black hair, hung big between his huge thighs. He rubbed the head on Marigold's freckles, as promised.

"Alright, Marigold, my little slut-slave," he said kindly. "See this cock?"

Marigold did see it. It smelled so rank and sweaty, like Ivo had been exerting himself. Marigold knew he didn't like it, that he was afraid of it, but he also knew he was privileged to have it rubbing him like this.

"And see this one?" said Commander Ivo.

In his other hand, on the other side of Marigold's face, he held up the golden nectar-cock. It was so beautiful, and even from here Marigold could smell the sweet flower-fragrance of the nectar. He moaned again. He mouthed after the golden cock, but Commander Ivo held it just out of reach.

"I'm thinking you should take one in your mouth," said Commander Ivo. "And if you're thinking about the one _I'm_ thinking, you'll get a reward. Simple, huh?"

It was simple, but Marigold still didn't really understand it. He scrunched up his face and Commander Ivo laughed at him. He lined up both cocks right in front of Marigold's mouth.

Marigold lunged for the golden cock. The nectar -- he so loved the nectar.

He was hit so hard his head rang, and his whole body jerked back. Only the hard cock in his arse held him in place. Pain buzzed around his skull.

His cocklet jumped up, happy. He gave a grateful whine.

Did he do it right? Was that his reward?

"Wrong," said Commander Ivo. He grabbed Marigold's hair and pulled him forwards. His prick fucked into Marigold's mouth. Even soft, it was large. 

Sour, acrid liquid filled Marigold's tongue. Not even the nectar could make it taste good. It was piss, disgusting and overpowering, and it chased away the nice nectar feeling. Marigold cried around the big prick, horrified.

"Drink it," Commander Ivo instructed. "Now."

Marigold didn't want to. He hated this. This was low, and dirty, and not in a good way. For one moment he felt worthless.

But -- but he'd done it wrong. So he had to drink it, didn't he? He'd let his friend down.

He swallowed whatever piss he could, crying in earnest. What he couldn't swallow dribbled down his chin and front. Making him smell. He hated smelling like this. He -- he thought this was one of the worst things, to smell like this, and to have this taste in his mouth.

"Let's try again," said Commander Ivo, when he'd pissed his fill and pulled his big cock out. "Let's see if you get it right."

Two big cocks before him. One cruel, one kind. The golden one had the lovely nectar that made Marigold forget how worthless he was. And the big, dark one with the fat head --

Marigold whimpered. It would piss on him. It would piss on him because he was nothing, he was just a stupid little vegetable garden slave. He turned away from it, whining--

Commander Ivo hit him again. Now the hit didn't feel so nice. The pain didn't make him wet. It was just pain, and he had such pain in his stretched arse, and he could feel his stomach cramping and his tits hurting and--

"Wrong again," said Commander Ivo. "Are you coming to yet, by the way? Funny how the nectar only takes you so far. For all of you, there's always one or two things you can't handle. One or two things the nectar can't take you through."

Hallen stared up at Commander Ivo, horrified.

The Commander's sloe black eyes crinkled at the corners. He dropped his big cock and ran a hand through Hallen's hair again.

"Let's get a private room, Marigold. I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how do the tentacles not electrocute them to death, I don’t know, this is porn, please don’t ask me for logic.


	8. The Prize

Hallen could not stop crying.

Ivo was surprisingly fine with this. Hallen curled up away from him in one corner of the pallet, hugging his knees, and Ivo didn't seem at all shocked or bothered by it.

"Get it out," the Commander said easily. "Probably haven't had a second in your own mind for months, huh, Marigold?"

That wasn't his name. It wasn't. He was Hallen, low and dirty Hallen. But -- but still Hallen. Still _himself_.

"Let me guess: you hate the tits," said Commander Ivo. "And the cunt -- god, must a little garden slave like you have been surprised to get fitted with an expensive modification like that cunt. But it's not about what _you_ want, Marigold. And, really, would you rather be working in the vegetable garden? There you just suffer. Here you suffer and you like it."

"That's not _me_ ," Hallen burst out, around his sobs.

It wasn't. Marigold was something else, something stupid and easy to abuse. Hallen was easy to abuse too, but he wasn't stupid. He wasn't. He had a shred of something Marigold didn't. He had a -- a self. Marigold didn't have that. Marigold was just giggles and self-torment.

"Thank the Divine One it fucking isn't," Commander Ivo agreed, coming and sitting next to him. His heavy weight sunk the pallet. Hallen dared to look up at his big, broad form.

"What did you think would happen?" Commander Ivo asked gently. "Did you think you could betray the God and face no consequence? I gave you a choice and you chose wrong, Marigold."

This only made Hallen cry harder. He knew Commander Ivo was right. Still, he forced out, "Hallen. My name is Hallen, Honored One."

"Hallen, huh?" said Commander Ivo. "Cute. But they should have called you 'Carrot,' for what you were shoving in your nasty back hole, baby. Either way, you're just something grown in His Divinity's gardens. Something pathetic that could have been fucked dead on horse cock, but you weren't. You're alive. That's a win for you, Hallen-slut."

"That's a win for _you_ ," Hallen cried, without thinking.

It was. Commander Ivo owned two of his three holes. Commander Ivo had claimed him. Commander Ivo had overseen his modifications, too, making Hallen into -- into this thing he was now.

The Commander just laughed a hearty belly laugh.

"It sure fucking is," he agreed. "You know -- I'm over twenty years older than my God-brother? I'm practically an old man, Mari-baby. I've been kicking around these halls watching the Exalted One grow -- an honor, to be sure -- and watching so, so many pretty sluts paraded in front of him. They get boring after a while. They're trained in the tributary lands and sent here to be modified, and they start out as fighters, but it's all arrogant bitch-bluster. Within a day, they get so half the time you can't even shake them out of their nectar-fog. You do, and there's nothing left of them. And that's not real faith, Carrot-slut. That's just -- addiction."

Hallen realized now how thirsty he was. So, so thirsty, thirst like sand lodged in his throat. He choked on the thirst, horrified.

Commander Ivo's big hand smacked his back until he could at least get air again.

"You have real faith. And you'll be easy to shake out of the nectar-funk when I want to. You haven't been primed for that like the others. And you're pretty. Not beautiful, no. But pretty enough, and a little workhorse, too. You’ll never be a Rose, but you make a good a Marigold."

Hallen hugged his knees tighter, hiccuping out his misery. He could hear shrieks and wails now, and knew one was the Hollyhock. His -- his poor friend. His abused friend. Hallen remembered now how Commander Ivo had pissed in his bowl and let Hollyhock be tortured.

"Aw, don't start feeling bad for the others," the Commander cautioned now. "You've got to look out for you, Marigold."

His rough fingers found the hair at the base of Hallen's neck. Tangled it up.

"Thirsty?" the Commander asked.

Hallen nodded, despite his horror. He was so thirsty. It was killing him.

"Want to go back to being nectar-stupid?"

Yes. But no. No. Hallen shook his head, crying all the harder, because he did want that, but he knew he shouldn't want it.

"You know you'll have to, because the Lord Undying's law is that a pleasure-slut be stupid," Commander Ivo said gently. "He can't have His sluts capable of forming words, letting slip His secrets. But I can give you little breaks, yeah? Just between the two of us? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

His hand climbed up to the top of Hallen's skull. He made Hallen nod. Hallen didn't really know if he wouldn't have nodded on his own. He might have. He wanted the nectar so badly, because of the thirst. But he wanted be _himself_ , too.

"I--I did something horrible to the Divine One," he forced out, just to make sense of things. "I am guilty of treason. And this is His justice--"

Commander Ivo snorted.

"He sees all things, but His justice is a bit haphazard, Marigold. He would've been fine if you'd died on Zerrik's cock. No, this is _my_ justice, understand? Big, mean old Commander Ivo. Put your faith in the Sun Over The Mountains, but know that your life is in my hands, by His own decree. Your life is a present He's given me, because I asked for it and worked hard to earn it. So now you do what I tell you."

He hauled Hallen off of the pallet, pulling the slave by his collar to kneel before him. Then the big cock was out. Commander Ivo ground Hallen's face into it. Hallen cried out at the rough treatment.

"You want a nectar-cock?" Commander Ivo said. "Or this one? Choose wisely now, my pretty slut."

"Th-this cock," Hallen said, knowing now what the right answer was.

"That's _right_ ," said Commander Ivo. He fed Hallen the sour head. Hallen sucked it, eyes flicking up fearfully to look at the big soldier.

"Good," Commander Ivo said, rubbing the back of Hallen's neck, right below the collar. "Good boy. I'm going to explain to you what your life will be like while you suck, hmm? I should have done that from the start, but we're sort of in the middle of a war right now. You don't matter compared to that."

Hallen nodded, miserable but understanding. He was nothing. He was as low as he'd ever been. Lower, possibly. Even if his modified body was worth more now.

"When I'm in town, you're mine," Ivo said. "I fuck you. I bring you food and clean you out. I tend to you. If I bring you to the God, you fuck Him, right?"

Hallen nodded again. Commander Ivo was forcing him to take the big cock deeper. It was so big he was drooling, his mouth all messy on it.

"And I'll push you hard, Mari-slut. I'll push you so hard, until you get to those places where the nectar can't help you. Then you'll get to remember yourself. Isn't that nice of me? Not every slave-slut gets to remember they're a person. But you're so sad and sweet and faithful that I don't mind bringing you back from the nectar. I _like_ you when you're like this."

He forced Hallen to bob on his cock. The big head was assaulting the back of Hallen's throat, leaking pre-cum onto his tongue. Hallen choked on it, slobbery and helpless.

"In return, you have to honor me, understand? I can't have my pretty boy-slut falling behind the others. I can't have you looking anything other than perfect in front of the God. Commander Ivo is His Divinity's best and most faithful soldier, so my slut -- my little slut has to be His Divinity's best and most faithful cumdump. Tonight, we're having a party to celebrate taking Truenka. You and some of the other slut-slaves will be putting on a show for us. There will be a prize. I intend to win that fucking prize, Marigold. Understand?"

Hallen didn't like the sound of any of that. But he wasn't sure what he could do other than try to make sounds of agreement around the huge cock.

"Good," said Commander Ivo, petting his hair again. "Very good. You're going to drink my cum, pretty, and then you're going to climb up here so I can maul those tits. _Then_ I'll sate your thirst. But we're playing a little game, you and me. When you're nectar-dumb again, we're going to see if you remember who your master is. Most sluts barely do. But you -- you're already so submissive, babyslut. You're special like that. So we're gonna have so, so much fun, the two of us."

-

By night, Hallen was gone again, and Marigold was back.

Marigold didn't mind that. Hallen was so sad. It was better to be Marigold. Especially after such a nice long day with Commander Ivo.

And the ugly, enormous prick. Marigold knew now that this was the prick to choose, even if he preferred the nectar-cocks. When he chose it, he got to have his tits mauled and his arse plowed. He even got lashed on his belly while he giggled at the bright, fierce pain.

Then his friend the Commander made him bathe, and rubbed salve on the lash-marks so they faded. He put some kind of gold shimmerdust on Marigold's back tattoo, so that the pretty flower glowed. And he brought out little golden clamps with bright topazes in the exact color of Marigold's hair. 

These he clamped right on the long nipples. Milk dribbled out. Marigold jerked at the hurt, and jerked more when Commander Ivo strung a chain between the clamps, so he could tug Marigold around by his tits.

"Ye-yeth, yeth, yeth!"

His cunt was so wet now, and he was coming from his battered little cock. He writhed happily on the floor until Commander Ivo scooped him up like he weighed nothing.

"You're so pretty for the party," Commander Ivo murmured into his hair. "You remember why you're going to the party?"

Marigold had to think very hard. It made his stupid little brain hurt to think that hard.

"P-prize," he hummed, remembering what Commander Ivo had told Hallen. "Y-you want the p-prize."

And the Lord Undying was his God, but the Commander -- he was Marigold's master. Marigold's life was a gift for the Commander. Marigold laughed, pleased that he could remember that.

"Let's go, pretty slave-slut," Ivo said, hoisting Marigold over his shoulder. Marigold cooed at the rough treatment.

He wasn't the only one carried out of the seraglio. Daffodil was too, drooling and nectar-dumb in her guardswoman's arms. Bluebell was dragged out by a chain attached to her big clit. Poppy was gently cradled by Corporal Ulikka. And Holly -- his friend Holly was _so_ lucky. He had a bright pink rope wound tight around his cock and balls, drawn so tight that they were purple. His pupils were blown and he could barely crawl, but his Corporal Aimu was kind enough to kick him every time he stumbled.

Like this, the lucky claimed slaves were guided through the palace halls. 

Until they came to the big room where the Lord Undying had first fucked Marigold. Marigold blinked up at the soaring ceiling, with its mural of the sun.

"Oo-oooh," he managed, as he jostled around on Commander Ivo's big shoulder. It was so beautiful. He was so fortunate to be here. Hallen would probably be crying at it, but he wasn't Hallen anymore. He was Marigold, and he could feel his wet cunt throbbing in anticipation at what might happen next.

Commander Ivo dropped him in the center of a circle made by several banqueting tables. The other slaves were dropped or dragged or kicked into place next to him. They made a little pile in the middle of the room. Marigold lifted his head to admire his fellow slaves, for they'd all been made so pretty. Daffodil's golden nose ring was so huge she looked like a lovely cow. Bluebell had the sweetest little clit-piercing. And Hollyhock, his dear friend Holly -- he was so _striped_. He had been lashed and lashed with precision, a gorgeous pattern on his back now.

Marigold crawled to him to give him a sweet kiss. Holly moaned agreeably. Around them, the Elite Guard took their seats at tables already piled high with food. 

The Lord Undying on His throne surveyed the scene. Marigold dared to sneak Him a look. 

He was still terribly handsome, as their God should be. And it pained Marigold, that he was so low he couldn't crawl to Him and lick His feet while He ate. He wanted to do that. The Divine One was so good to him. Had spared him, and offered him to his dear friend Commander Ivo.

For the first hour or so, the pleasure sluts went mostly ignored. Half of the Guard had been fighting in Truenka, and now the other half and the Divine One welcomed them back. There were toasts to His everlasting glory, and a toast or two to the cleverness of Commander Ivo. Ivo was humble and faithful when he gave his speech, crediting their victory to the will of the Lord Undying, as he should.

The Lord Undying rolled his eyes, but grinned at this nevertheless.

And Marigold, he just fondled his fellow slaves. Was fondled by them. They were all drowsy and stupid, their warm bellies pumped full of nectar. So they gurgled happily at each other and blinked at the honored guard around them.

Marigold in particular blinked at Commander Ivo. Something told him that the Commander expected Marigold to look to him. So Marigold did, and every time he did he was rewarded with a dangerous smile. It got his cunt so hot and hungry. He fucked his fingers into it roughly for Commander Ivo.

Then Poppy found him, and, giggling, shoved him to the floor. And Poppy's cock was in his cunt, fucking in like a mad little jackhammer. Marigold jerked on it and laughed happily, wildly. He looked for Commander Ivo. The Commander was watching him carefully. Marigold squirmed around like a little caught worm until he was facing him, until he could stretch out his arms and bow to him as he was fucked.

That was his master, his beloved friend. Marigold wouldn't forget. All Marigold had to do was remember that. An easy task even for his stupid brain. Commander Ivo was kind like that.

When Poppy was coming inside him, the lights in the great hall were dimmed. Marigold scarcely noticed. Poppy had been modified so that his little balls could be swelled up big by shots of nectar. This meant that sometimes he could cum thick, sticky nectar instead of man-cum -- another reason he was the most popular among all his fellow slave-sluts. When he shoved off of Marigold, Marigold began eagerly scooping the nectar from his own pussy and bringing it to his mouth. Greedy and happy.

Commander Ivo's big foot stepped in front of him. The Commander took his tit-leash. Marigold was tugged by his tits, painfully tugged into place and made to kneel. Right at the end of a line of kneeling slavesluts. All kneeling before the Divine One.

It took effort to stop scooping the nectar out of his cunt. Marigold did stop, however. This was the Great One, the God. Looking down at all His most favored whores. Commander Ivo's Marigold, and the Bluebell, Daffodil, Hollyhock, and Poppy that had been gifted to the Corporals.

Commander Ivo was saying something, and the Elite Guard were cheering. Marigold couldn't really understand any of this, though. Words were going all fuzzy as soon as he heard them. Nectar did that.

But then his Master leaned down and took Marigold's chin in hand. 

"Time to eat," he said. "Be sure to thank the Divine One for your meal, alright, carrot-slut?"

Marigold blinked. That didn't seem to be his name anymore. His name was 'Marigold' or maybe 'slutslave' if not 'slaveslut.' But there was no time to think of it, because now the handsome Lord Undying was descending from His throne, waving to a servant who brought forth a big platter of fruits and vegetables.

"The first test," said the Divine Godhood, "is _gratitude_."

There was a cheer from the assembled guard. A great many laughs, too. The Lord Undying came first to the Daffodil, at the other end of the line, and offered the platter to Corporal Reyee, a huge blonde Jullskint woman who could have been the Daffodil's sister. 

Corporal Reyee picked out an assortment of fruits: berries and sliced figs, sweet apple halves and pomegranate seeds. The servants arranged them in a bowl before the Daffodil, who hummed prettily and played with her fair hair, eyes obediently on the God.

Akheneus parted His golden tunic, revealing His cock. The other slaves fidgeted enviously as Daffodil moaned and lunged for it. Her pink mouth closed on it, suckling instantly, eyes rolling back in bliss. Marigold went wet at the sight, wet and hard, and whined. He would have tried to crawl over and touch the God himself if Commander Ivo hadn't had a hard hand on his tit-leash.

Daffodil wasn't allowed His cum. Just His pre-cum, the dribbles leaking magnificently onto her food. When the God had shoved her off and applied this Divine sauce, she gave a happy whine and got her face in the bowl, to much laughter, as the Lord Undying proceeded to the Poppy. Poppy got the same treatment, the same lucky chance to touch His cock. His bowl of grapes was given a few blessed jets of pre-cum, and Poppy ate them with his tongue out, panting, showing his thankfulness. The Elite Guard cheered, and Corporal Ulikka looked especially pleased. 

Bluebell actually had the God grab hold of her clit-leash to torment her, which made her piss and gurgle. The servants held the bowl beneath her cunt, catching all the piss they could, while Akheneus laughed. Corporal Fedorer got a bigger cheer yet when Bluebell drank up her own leavings, whining because her figs were not flavored with any of the God. But Marigold didn't think that was right. She should be grateful she was so much as permitted in His presence. Marigold was grateful. 

Holly -- sweet Holly -- did himself and Corporal Aimu proud. His sucking made the God spurt properly, left the Lord Undying clutching his sandy head, driving his cock deep into Holly's throat. Holly choked _beautifully_. Marigold was envious and proud all at once. Holly's throat spasmed and bobbed as he swallowed down cum, real Divine cum, and when the God shoved him away Holly brokenly crawled after His cock. Ignoring the bowl Corporal Aimu had set out before him entirely.

The cheers were absolute. The laughs, too. Their audience _loved_ Holly. Marigold was happy for him, and yet, as Akheneus came to stand before him, he felt a flicker of anxiety.

How could he follow that? 

He looked to Commander Ivo. He didn't want to. He wanted to look to the handsome Sun Over The Mountains, standing there with His huge prick demanding Marigold's worship. 

Commander Ivo winked.

He didn't elect to fill Marigold's bowl himself, but had the servants lower the platter before the slaveslut. Marigold stared in awe at all the food there. So many things he had never eaten, these dates and figs and apple slices, these sugared ginger bits and whole stems of many grapes at a time. 

And -- and some carrots. Those he knew. Those he recognized. He stretched out a hand to those, and looked up at the Commander.

A nod.

Marigold grabbed the big, long carrot with both hands. His tongue stuck out a bit, with the concentration it took to avoid the sweet fruits. The slaves pulled the platter away, and then he was pulled forwards by his tits, for Commander Ivo had handed the Lord Undying his tit-leash.

Marigold kneeled and offered the carrot to the Divine One shyly. He thought it was so _stupid_ that all the other slaves had just eaten, hadn't thought to give everything they could to the God. Not only their worthless mouths and bodies, but this bounty. All bounty came from Him, and all bounty was thus rightfully His. So, even if Marigold wanted to jump on His big cock, first he would ask Akheneus to share this with him. 

Akheneus' white teeth curled into a smile. He put his softening cockhead right in Marigold's clasped hands, touching the carrot. He let out a stream of His piss.

The joyous laughter around them made Marigold's head spin. He smiled. Everyone was so happy. He was making them so happy. _Him_ , a little empty-headed pleasure slut. He licked the piss running down his own wrists, and licked the piss in his thin hands. He licked the piss off the carrot, and, knowing he owed great fealty to the big God-cock, did not bother to eat. Just reached back and painfully shoved the carrot in himself--

(The Elite Guard were jeering and roaring with laughter. Now most had their cocks out, or were sneaking fingers down to their cunts. Marigold was making them _so happy_ \--)

\--and then got his lips around the Lord Undying's big prick. Sucking down, choking on it. Out of his mind with joy. This must be the prize, right? This was the best prize. Marigold hoped -- oh, he hoped he would get to pass out on it.

-

The second test was 'generosity,' and he did less well at that. He was stupid now. It was the extra nectar he'd taken. So when he was led by his tit-leash to one of the tables, as indeed all of the others were being led to other tables, he was in a stupor. 

He was happy to be fucked by the twenty or so Elite Guard at his banquet table. Happy to take them in his arse and mouth and between his tits. Happy to let them stuff more food in his sloppy cunt. But he wasn't quick as, say, the more alert Poppy was. The Poppy was making Corporal Ulikka proud with how he asked for cock and lapped at cunt even before the Honored Ones offered those gifts to him.

They tallied up the scores by painting marks on the slave-sluts. Hollyhock's were on his thighs, and he scored a perfect ten for the first test, a respectable seven for the second. Poppy had an eight and a ten, scrawled on his plump belly. Bluebell had a ten -- which Marigold did not think was fair -- and a six. Daffodil had fallen behind, poor thing, and was only a seven and a six. 

Marigold -- Marigold had earned an _eleven_ for the first test. But only a five for the second. He cried a bit sadly when he was dragged back to the center of the room and the low score was painted onto his tits. He could scarcely meet Commander Ivo's eyes.

"The third test," announced Akheneus, now drinking wine and cracking jokes with Ivo by his throne. "Is 'abasement.'"

Marigold closed his eyes and bowed low to the God. Oh, let him do well at this one. Let him make his master proud, make the Lord Undying proud. Please, please let his stupid holes serve as they were meant to.

Now the laughter was really wild. And there were squeals, too. Somehow familiar ones. Marigold opened his eyes.

All the other slaves in the line were crawling back, afraid. Whimpering. Because five of the ugliest creatures Marigold had ever seen were loping into the room. Although they were big, big men, they loped like pigs. They had snouts for noses and modified pig-ears on their ugly shaved skulls. They were naked, their fat rolls painted in gold shimmerdust, and their cocks were even more unpleasant than Commander Ivo's. Corkscrew cocks. 

Pig men. Marigold blinked. 

Pig men were _easy_. He'd taken so many of them before!

He was the one slave to crawl to the ugly pig-cocks, even as the others cowered. He felt happy again, and in control. He couldn't quite remember when or how he'd had pig-cock before, but he knew he'd had it. And the other slaves -- they were so ridiculous now. They seemed to think they were too _good_ for the pig-cock, crawling to their Corporals and begging for mercy in their sad little raspy slave-voices.

Not Marigold. He wasn't too good for anything. He looked Commander Ivo's way and knew the Commander agreed. Marigold was nothing. Marigold existed to serve His whims. Marigold was glad for that, too. That was right.

He embraced one hairy, fat pig-leg. The squealing man-beast above him hit him to the ground. Marigold took it and just spread his legs. Got his sore cunt lips spread. The big pig man reared up, and then his fat, hot body was on Marigold. Choking him out as the pig-cock stabbed and stabbed, before finding purchase in his cunt.

Nectar made the painful drilling bearable. Marigold was drilled deep, the cock corkscrewing in so that it seemed to hit a special place in him. His womb, maybe. He coughed beneath the heavy body, taking this without complaint. The other pig men were chasing the frightened slaves about, to the sounds of more laughter. Marigold wriggled until he was partly free beneath the pig man fucking him, and could get in a breath. He held out his arms to another pig man.

He had more holes, didn't he? 

The second pig man realized it too. With a squeal and a grunt, the fat pig arse descended on Marigold's face. Another corkscrew cock jabbed at his lips. Marigold tried to suckle it as best he could, though his eyes were watering. He was so, so happy for the nectar now. This was -- this was too much. This was too painful. Too humiliating. They were laughing at him, because he was taking pig-cock. He might not be able to take it if it weren't for the nectar--

The pig men jostled him up roughly, so he could take one in his rear. That cock went in the most painfully of all, and Hallen let out his own pig-squeal at it. He -- he had been pushed too far. He was himself again, and it was horrible. He was surrounded by pig men, a fourth one now coming to tug on his leash and drill between his tits. The fifth coming to rub its cock on his filthy hair.

Hallen, fucking pigs again. 

It hurt. He hurt. He passed out from it, from the drill-pain in all his holes. He wished he were dead.

-

When he came to, he felt better. Because they were pumping nectar down his throat.

Good nectar. Good. Marigold shyly felt his bloated belly. His tits.

He had another eleven. Another more than perfect score. It was blissful. He was so happy. His battered, stupid mind thrilled now.

He got to take the God-cock in his cunt all night. He thought there was some sort of prize for Commander Ivo, too, gold and possibly a horse or something. But Marigold got the best prize, which was to be Akheneus' cockwarmer.

The runner ups had nice prizes too, though. They were beaten, beaten and beaten for hours, while Marigold fucked the God and clapped to see his friends cumming on the lash. 

He loved parties. He hoped they'd be invited to more parties in the future, all of them.


	9. Nectar

It was never entirely clear to Marigold, what might bring Hallen back.

Too far. That was it. It was being pushed too far. But Marigold, Marigold was usually quite content to go so far that nothing was too far. Marigold had no trouble with the thought of taking pig cock. Marigold was fine with strenuous abuse to his holes. Marigold even hummed gratefully now, whenever Commander Ivo was so nice as to garland his meals with piss and cum.

So long as Marigold had his nectar, and there was always nectar, Marigold was a good little slaveslut. He hoped Hallen never came back. Marigold was much happier than Hallen. More faithful, too. 

_Marigold_ had never betrayed the God.

It was thus a special pain that Commander Ivo -- he seemed to prefer dumb, sad _Hallen_ to Marigold. And he had a genius for making Hallen appear. For devising ways to push the slaveslut so much that the nectar-spell snapped, and thirsty, miserable Hallen resurfaced, clinging stupidly to his last shred of humanity.

Ivo knew how to make piss-games especially awful. Ivo delighted in doling out beatings so vicious that even Marigold couldn't withstand them. And one day he even burned Marigold up with ginger, and that, too, brought Hallen out. Snot-nosed, crying Hallen, crying about something done to him once in the vegetable garden. Stupid Hallen always held onto his bad memories like that. Not like Marigold. Marigold was a good slaveslut, and just let bad thoughts wash away. 

“You took the figging then, and you’ll take it now,” was all Commander Ivo told Hallen. “Pain matters more when you feel every inch of it, doesn’t it? Then you have to endure. Get strong. Trust in His Divinity to protect you.”

Hallen was bent over, his tits swinging. His skinny fingers clutched two of the wall-cocks. Nectar spurred out onto his forearms, and he was so thirsty for it. But Commander Ivo wouldn’t want him to drink it. 

And by now — by now he was _terrified_ of Commander Ivo. 

One meaty hand massaged his round arse. The other twisted the peeled ginger deeper into him. The burn hurt so bad. Hallen cried and cried. His stupid cocklet was pointing straight up like it was good, but it wasn’t good. His arse felt nearly as bad as it had when he’d taken Zerrik in it. Tingled-up with burning pain. 

Commander Ivo got the ginger firm inside him and then pulled back his big hand. 

He smacked one arse cheek, hard. Hallen wailed. Now that flesh was hurting, bloomed with hurt. 

Another smack, to the other cheek. And Commander Ivo had powerful smacks. 

“Every. Time. You. Suffer,” the Commander grunted out, punctuating each word with a hit so hard that Hallen’s brain shrunk to nothing but the pain, “It. Is. His. Will. Thank. Him. For. It!”

“Thank you,” Hallen sobbed at the next smack. At every smack. “Thank you, Divine One. Th-Thank you! Th-this worthless s-slave th-thanks you!”

“Thank Him for the ginger!” roared Commander Ivo, aiming a smack to drive the burn deeper into Hallen’s sore pucker. 

Hallen screamed. Screamed a ragged, “Th-Thank you! Oh, thank you, Godly One!”

“Count them and thank Him!” ordered the Commander. His huge hands beat Hallen mercilessly, pummeled the slave black and blue. Hallen’s stupid cocklet spurted as the pain took over his mind. 

“O-one! Th-Thank you!” he shrieked. “T-two! Th-Thank you, Divine Lord! Th-three! Th-Thank you f-for this b-beating!”

Immersed in the pain. Knowing it for a punishment, a correction, as only Hallen could. The Marigold didn’t have that misery, that guilt Hallen had. The Marigold would have taken this and only liked it. Not liked and also suffered. 

He was beaten on his arse and legs, kicked on his belly and cunt. Roughly beaten on his tits. Only his face was spared, because that — that Commander Ivo found too pretty to hit. Hallen counted out each hit and made sure to commend it to his God.

“O-one hundred,” he whimpered eventually, when he was nothing more than a broken ball slumped at the Commander’s feet. “Thank y-you, Lord Undying. Th-Thank you f-for—“

He blinked. Tried to think. 

“F-for C-commander Ivo,” he rasped out. “T-teaching me my place.”

The ginger was still burning up his arse. Commander Ivo smiled down at him. His big hand pumped one of the wall cocks, and then he was holding a nectar-filled palm to Hallen’s mouth. 

Hallen hiccuped. 

“N-no, Honored One,” he managed. He was so thirsty. But — but what was the good of sating that thirst? Then he’d just be Marigold again, stupid Marigold who couldn’t understand anything. 

Now, as Hallen, he felt — he felt so pitiably alive. So entirely himself. He knew his low place intimately, and there was an odd strength in that. In recognizing how beaten he was. Had he ever truly known it before? Before, he’d dared defy a God. Now he was brought so low, so low in His Divine Mercy, that he never would do that again. He would just — gladly suffer. If Commander Ivo killed him and burned up his soul, Hallen would permit it. Would assist. Because it would be the God’s wish that he do so, and Hallen was finally, finally strong enough not to put himself before the God. 

Commander Ivo’s laugh boomed around the room. 

“Why not, Mari-slut? You did so well, my little baby.”

Hallen smiled brokenly. He looked up at the Commander. 

“I’m grateful to be the low thing He made me,” he rasped out. “I understand my place now, Honored One. Not just when I’m nectar-stupid. But right now. As me.”

Commander Ivo’s lips stretched, pleased. His big hands cradled Hallen’s face, smearing the slave with sweet nectar. His thick foot was dangerously close to Hallen’s ballsack, prodding that swollen organ. 

He bent down and gave Hallen a kiss. 

Hallen accepted it. Accepted all things, now. 

“Isn’t it nice to be secure in what you are, Mari-slut?”

Hallen nodded into his mouth. 

“When I’m done with you,” Commander Ivo promised, “You’ll be the best little slave ever. So much better than the other sluts. You won’t even need the nectar, sweetheart. You’ll be perfect. Perfect for me.”

“L-let that be His will,” Hallen rasped out. The Commander’s big hands mauled his milk-thick tits, getting streams of milk drooling down Hallen’s belly. Hallen gave a little exhale at the messy relief. The Commander kissed him again. 

“If it is His will,” Hallen repeated dumbly. “His blessed will.”

-

Commander Ivo soon went away again. For, Marigold-and-Hallen thought, quite a long time. For their land was still warring with the Dokkenai. 

But the Commander didn’t forget about his claimed little Mari-slut this time. This time, Aimu stayed, promoted to Commander-at-arms for the home garrison. And Commander Ivo drilled it into the Marigold, during that last painful arsefuck he claimed before he left, that Marigold was to obey Aimu in his stead. 

At least until the Divine One should reunite them. 

Luckily, Mari’s best friend Holly was generous, and didn’t mind sharing his Jullskint. 

Aimu was a good master, Marigold thought. Such a good one. He would give the two boys all of his salty cum and sour piss. Would beat them until they were quivering with joy. 

Aimu loved his Hollyhock fiercely, reserving the hardest and worst treatment for Holly. But he didn’t forget about Mari, either. Whenever he made Holly pass out, he’d turn his attention to the redheaded slave slut. He’d make Marigold lie on his back with his legs up, ankles and wrists chained to the wall. He’d put a sack on Mari’s head ( _not even all that pretty, don’t know what the Commander sees in you_ ), and draw tight the sack-strings to choke out Mari’s air. He would fuck the slaveslut’s arse brutally as Mari spasmed and passed out. 

Marigold loved it. He had never been so happy. He understood now why his best friend was so upbeat, so sweet. Commander Aimu knew what a slaveslut needed. 

“L-love him,” Holly would mumble shyly, when they would come to, abandoned in some corner, a pile of boyslut limbs all dripping with Aimu’s piss and cum. “L-love Aimu.”

“Sh-should,” Marigold would agree. “A-Aimu...s-so nice.”

“Aimu,” Holly would say blissfully. “L-love my Aimu.”

Marigold knew it was wrong for Holly to love Aimu before the God, and knew he should correct his friend. But how could he? Holly was too happy to correct. Marigold, stupid Marigold, was almost jealous at what a deep love Holly and Holly’s master had. 

He did not have that for Commander Ivo. Not really. The Commander was big and ugly and frightening, and when he could have been blessing Mari with pain, instead he focused on getting Hallen out. Hallen, unlike Mari, needed to be reminded to love and revere the Divine One. 

Hallen needed to be more like Mari. They needed to be Mari-Hallen, unified in their reverent love for His punishment. They needed improvement. 

That was the basis of Marigold’s relationship with his friend, Commander Ivo. Not love. 

One day, Commander Aimu leashed both him and Holly by their collars and took them for a walk. The happy slaveboys crawled behind him, arses in the air. They had been whipped and were pretty with lash-marks, and whenever they passed servants or nobles in the palace halls they preened. Aimu laughed at this. 

“Come on, dummy,” he said to Holly, tugging on his leash. Then on Mari’s. “Come on, ugly.”

Aimu was so busy. Being garrison Commander was an important job, one that demanded discipline and hours of work. So he had to keep the slaveboys with him some days, just to ensure their punishments could be snuck in during the odd moments he had some free time. It was very nice of him. 

He took them to the stables today, for he was to look over a shipment of Gherik-Shu horses gifted to the Divine One for His guard. Hollyhock he made suck his prick while he talked to the stablemaster. Marigold he just tied to a post between two big, golden-painted stalls. 

Mari whined sadly. His cunt and arse were empty. And he was bored in seconds. The only comfort was playing with his tits and squeezing his ballsack. He wished he had someone else to play with. Yesterday Calla Lily had forced a hook into his arse. That had been so nice. Nice of her. 

Enough time passed that he was sitting in a little pile of milk and cock-spurt. His tongue stuck out as he focused on making the puddle bigger. His tits were some of his favorite body parts because of how nicely they hurt and how much messy milk they gave. He was always sticky and messy. Leaking like a proper slut. 

Something in the stall on the right whinnied. 

For some reason, the sound went right to his cunt. Marigold found it familiar, the same indistinct familiarity the pig men had given him. He crawled to the stall and pulled himself up to peer through the eyeslit in the stall door. 

There was a big red horse there. Beautiful. Huge and beautiful. Its cock was so long and thick. Marigold whined. He found his skinny hands reaching back to his arsehole. He tried to twist and get all his fingers in so he could stretch the loose hole looser. 

You needed a big gape to take Zerrik’s cock. Marigold knew that. 

And who had taught him that? Commander Ivo. 

Marigold blinked, ashamed at himself. Ashamed as only Hallen usually was. Here was Mari, refusing to fall in love with the Commander, when the Commander was so, so good to him. Maybe he wasn’t as obviously good as Aimu was, no. But he had taught Marigold so much. Taught Marigold to drink nectar and suck the God-prick, to clean out his insides with soap-water and filthy them up with horse cock. 

Mari’s mouth watered at the sight of Zerrik’s big prick. But his mind, his little empty mind, it was — 

It was sad. He missed the Commander. The Commander wouldn’t tie him to a post and abandon him. The Commander would make sure his pretty Mari-slut was pleasuring him. 

And he’d have such a big, funny laugh when Mari shyly told him he wanted to take the horse cock again. Maybe he’d even find a way for Mari to take it. He was clever, that Commander Ivo. Very clever. 

Eventually Commander Aimu came back, dragging Holly behind him. Marigold was watching the big horse cock and playing with his cunt. 

“B-big c-cock,” he told Commander Aimu shyly, pointing it out. 

Aimu grunted. 

“This is the big cock you should worry about, bitch. Get over here. Holes out, now.”

Marigold obeyed. He presented his arse and cunt to Commander Aimu without hesitation. 

Commander Aimu’s soft cockhead prodded at his rear. Warm piss filled him up. When Aimu was done, he grabbed a horse crop hanging on the wall and stuffed the handle into Marigold to plug him. 

“I’ll use that on you later,” he promised kindly. 

Marigold giggled. Hollyhock, meanwhile, squirmed around the straw-strewn stable floor. 

“Th-thirsty,” he rasped out. “A-aimu. ‘m thirsty.”

“What, bitch, my cum wasn’t enough for you?” Aimu said. “Alright, dummy. Stop complaining. You’ll like where I take you in a bit.”

He dragged them to his next task. Hollyhock was breathing hard, like he really did need more nectar. When they were dragged outside and tied to a rose-covered arbor, Marigold crawled to him and petted him. 

Hollyhock’s dulled blue eyes seemed, bizarrely, to be clearer now. But it wasn’t like he had some Hallen kicking around inside him. No, the clarity didn’t give him any more personality. It just made him thirsty and confused. 

“I—“ he sobbed. “I—“

His skinny hands poked at his little cock and big ballsack. He appeared frightened. Marigold hugged him. 

“Wha—what am I?” Hollyhock asked piteously. “Why-why am I so thirsty?”

“Holly,” Mari said to him. “Pretty Holly. Good slut. M-my friend.”

Holly seemed almost unable to understand Marigold’s words. He was just a scared little ball that Marigold couldn’t seem to comfort. Marigold whined. 

Commander Aimu stomped over again. 

“No use, slut,” he told Marigold. “He’s not like your ugly ass. He’s a tribute. My people fed him nectar in the cradle. A little bit by a little bit by a little bit. Trained him to take to it so well it wiped out his selfhood. There’s nothing in him if he’s not a slave. You’re hugging a blank fucking slate.”

Holly shook with terror in Marigold’s arms. Marigold cried with him now, not understanding. 

Commander Aimu rolled his eyes and stepped back. Marigold blinked again. 

He knew this place. They were in the vegetable garden. 

“He’s not a work slave like you were,” Aimu said, enunciating every word. “He’s bred to be an empty nectar slut. Whatever you do to him, comfort or hurt him, it won’t make him a person. He doesn’t remember enough or know enough to have any kind of selfhood to cling to. That’s why he’s better than you, slut. You’re the only one that has any kind of personality beyond the nectar. And you know why? Because one day, when we were picking up a shipment like I’m picking it up today, Ivo saw you. Saw you getting beaten against this very wall, and got obsessed with you. It’s like he wants to prove he can make a better slut than even the gods. 

“Oh, Ivo pretends to be faithful. But really, ugly, he’s the most arrogant fuck you’ll ever meet. I promise you that.”

-

Only,Marigold didn’t really understand anything Commander Aimu told him. 

Hallen would have understood. Marigold tried to commit the words to his battered mind for Hallen, really. 

After they picked up the vegetable shipment, Commander Aimu dragged them to the Lust Temple. Holly couldn’t walk, and had to be carried. Aimu dropped him on the chamomile lawn and told Marigold to watch him, so Mari did, but his beautiful friend was near catatonic now. Although the sun was beating down on them, his limbs were cold. Marigold tried to hug him again, to no purpose. He sobbed on Hollyhock’s pretty face. 

“Holly, H-Holly—“

Holly was trying to take in big gulps of air. His white skin was even paler than normal. The thirst had to be killing him. 

Aimu picked up another shipment. Something called Lust Juice. Slaves carried it out in big vats, joining the slaves carting the barrows of fresh vegetables. 

Then to the Temple of Su-Khe-Choiros, for slaughtered pig-meat. Then to the temple of Ry-therikos the Medical God, for some kind of healing aloe. Then, finally, to a cold black marble box that was a different temple entirely. 

“Dementhe,” Aimu said, with a grin that was more like a grimace. “Goddess of Madness, little bitch. That’s the last part of the recipe.”

Marigold whined and tried to fight being dragged into the temple. He didn’t like this cold place. Inside, the wall sconces gave off grey light. The black marble floor gave way to black pools of too-still water. Aimu dropped Hollyhock on a black marble bench.

Holly was seizing up now. His little mouth was foaming up. Even Aimu looked worried. He massaged Holly’s long limbs and said, “Easy, easy, my pretty painslut. Soon. Your little friend and I will help you, and then you’ll have the freshest, best nectar a bitch can have. I promise.”

Then he was dragging a struggling, frightened Marigold deeper into the temple. 

To a room all full of shrieking machines. Mari covered his ears with his hands, overwhelmed. Slaves fed vegetables and pig meat into one of the machines, to make a messy slurry. Then more slaves mixed the slurry with big vats of Love Juice and vats of healing aloe, until it gave off a sweet smell. 

A familiar smell. But not — not quite the nectar smell. Aimu dragged Marigold deeper and deeper into the big room.

Until they reached an enormous black throne. Almost as big as the Divine One’s. 

A beautiful young Edombe woman sat on it. Giggling frantically. Aimu whispered something to one of her servants, and that man nodded. He climbed the steps to the throne. 

“Lady Dementhe,” he said. 

“I’m Akheneus!” snapped the woman. Her voice was too loud. And there was something wrong with it, like she wasn’t good at understanding conversations. Like maybe she was worse at that than even Marigold was. 

“No,” said the man patiently. “You’re not the Undying One, Lady Dementhe. We’ve talked about this. You inherit the madness for the duration of your life, but then you die like a normal woman. Someday you will be free. And maybe He will be so kind then as to have you reborn as a less painful god.”

“Why does only _He_ get to come back as the best one?” screamed Lady Dementhe. Thrashed, too. She was tied to her throne. Despite that, something about her seemed dangerous. Marigold hid behind Aimu’s legs, terrified. 

“Now, now, Lady Dementhe,” said the servant. “Do your part. Do your part well, and He will reward you. We’ve discussed this.”

Lady Dementhe growled like a dog. But she spread her legs. 

“Bring me a vessel!” she commanded. 

Aimu pulled a struggling Marigold forward. 

“Present your holes, bitch,” he snapped. 

It was the Lord Undying’s will. It had to be, for everything that happened was. Still, Marigold sobbed with fear as he leaned forwards, offering up his slippery cunt and plugged-up rear. 

Commander Aimu tugged out the horse crop. Rivulets of piss ran down Marigold’s skinny legs. 

Something prodded at his loosened back hole. Marigold didn’t want to see what it was. He didn’t want to see at all. It was cold and slimier than a pool-tentacle, and it had little pinpricks. Little barbs that scraped his channel as it was forced into him. He shrieked horribly, not because he didn’t like pain, but because he was so, so scared. He knew enough to be scared. 

He was being barb-fucked back into Hallen. Because this was too much. Every barb not only cut into him as the big cock raped him, but also leaked. Leaked something that had him clawing at his own face and drooling. Not Marigold, but Hallen. Hallen taking the cum of the goddess of madness, mingling it with his own blood. 

“This will be a good batch,” giggled Dementhe. “Nice and pain-sweet.”

She pumped Hallen up. His stomach distended as big as his tits, stretched to near bursting. When she pulled out, Aimu plugged him back up instantly. Then the servants pulled him to one of the well-mixed vats and got him partly over it. He had to expel not just her cum but also his own pain and blood. He was mad enough that he thought all his pain was leaking out of him, running down into the vat alongside the thick juices of insanity. 

It was very like being in the Lust Temple again, having to do this. Getting painfully filled, then expelling it. Then painfully filled again, only to expel it. 

But his body wasn’t being cleaned this time. This time his mind was. His mind was wiped of reason with pain, the pain flushed out into the vat, and then he repeated the process. 

It seemed to go on for hours. He couldn’t walk by the final time he was held over the vat and made to force out the last mad-cum. This time he looked directly at Dementhe on her throne and saw it, the thick undulating tentacle all studded with black barbs. She slicked it back up into her cunt with a giggle. 

As this happened, the slaves mixed up the nectar. Protein and vitamins, aphrodisiac and a salve for sore little slut-muscles. And addictive madness, mingled with pain. Sweet pain to give it an edge. Hallen put a horrified hand to his mouth. 

Aimu pulled him off the vat. He had been scooping up fresh nectar throughout the process and carrying a big jug of it out to Holly. So now Holly was sprightly and stupid again, kissing his beloved Aimu’s feet. 

Hallen fell in front of them. 

“Mari,” Hollyhock hummed. “N-nectar! So good! Good, Mari!”

As one of the slaves came and tallied up the invoice to be paid to the Insanity Temple, causing Commander Aimu to curse, Hallen felt his stomach heave up. 

“Akheneus had better not stiff me on the bill!” shrieked Dementhe. “He always plays tricks! Everyone thinks I’m crazy, but I know He’s playing tricks! I know He does!”

Hallen vomited on the floor. Vomited up everything he’d eaten that week, which was mostly nectar. 

Coming back up, it looked exactly like what it was, which was poison.


	10. Pleasing the God

The slutslaves always healed quickly, probably because they guzzled up so much aloe with the nectar-brew.

But Hallen had stopped drinking it once he understood what was in it. Had taken his promised horse cropping from Aimu and accepted the pain. Accepted the thirst. And then forced himself not to bury his face in the jug Aimu set before him. 

Aimu didn't notice. By then he had Hollyhock licking his ballsack. When he'd come all over his favorite slut's face, he'd settled the bill with Dementhe and pulled both slaves back to the seraglio.

Where it was a special torture to avoid the nectar. Within hours, Hallen was both thirsty and starving, shaking all over like Hollyhock had been. His pretty friend kept trying to tug him off his pallet, make him drink from the wall-cocks. But Hallen resisted.

"Mari!" Hollyhock pleaded. "Mari, p- _pleath_ \--"

No. With effort, he pushed his friend off. Roughly shoved his friend to the door of the pallet room, and then clanged the barred door shut after Holly. While the skinny blond boyslut blinked in confusion at this new development, _a shut door_ , Hallen dragged the pallet-bed over to block it from being opened again.

"Mari!" Holly cried. His skinny arms reached through the bars and tried to get to his friend. "Mari!"

Aimu had said there was no Holly, not really. That all Hollyhock was was sweet nectar madness. Hallen sobbed at that. Even if he'd only come to know Hollyhock while he was the Marigold, he found that he did like the other slave. Hollyhock was his friend. His friend who apparently needed nectar to survive.

Hallen wasn't like that. Hallen wouldn't be like that. He had to resist that.

Within perhaps a mere day, his whole body was spasming up. And the pain in his arse was bad, so bad. He realized distantly that he'd been cut up back there, had his whole tunnel shredded. Blood and piss and mad-goddess-cum, all mixed up into the wounds. He was infected, probably. No wonder he was seizing.

"M-Mari," Holly sobbed. "M-mari...g-gonna...g-get A-aimu..."

The other slaveslut crawled away. Hallen passed out from the pain, and when he woke he was being carried down the palace hallways. His body kept spasming up. Trying to vomit up the great nothing in his stomach now.

He was taken to the halls of Ry-therikos. The Healing Halls. This surprised him. He'd thought he might just be dumped somewhere to die. His mother had been. But his mother had been valueless, and Hallen -- Hallen was not.

The Medical acolytes muttered as they examined him.

"Divine decree--"

"Commander Ivo's favorite--"

His arse _was_ infected, too infected for a simple application of aloe to heal it. And because he clamped up his mouth and struggled any time they tried to feed him nectar, and stuck a finger in his mouth for the first few days every time they succeeded at making him swallow, he ended up getting no nutrition. Gleefully vomiting up the poison, never mind how it sated his thirst, for he did not want to be mad. Did not want to be even part-mad. 

After a few days of this, one of the Medical acolytes proclaimed that he was getting so thin so rapidly that he needed real food.

"--his own modified milk will do it," said the acolyte, as Hallen weakly blinked and tried not to be consumed by his thirst. "--fast vitamins, to speed up healing and growth."

So they gave him something different. Put his tit in his mouth and made him swallow down the thick, creamy strength he'd been modified to make. Milked it out of him themselves when he tried to fight, then put a gag on him to keep his mouth open and pumped it into his stomach until past the point where he felt full again. He writhed in his bedding, unable to fight it. Worried that once this treatment was done, it would be back to the nectar.

He was still thirsty for the nectar. Less thirsty. But still thirsty.

But he wanted to be _himself_. Not a valuable slutslave, not anymore. He wanted to be Hallen.

He prayed for it. He muttered the prayers into his bedding as he sweated out each night. Feeling every pain as pain now. He was always sweaty and milk-sticky, and his arse took healing enemas every night that perhaps took care of the infection, but still left him sore. All this was his God's will for Hallen. Maybe, therefore, Hallen should not have prayed.

He still did. It was all he knew.

"Please, Undying One, please spare me. Please let me exist, Undying One. Please don't strip me of my sanity. Please let me be faithful to You as myself, Divine God. Please -- _please_ \--"

During one of these praying sessions, curled up around his tits in his bedding, whimpering out this little litany, Hallen had a visitor.

Akheneus the Undying surveyed the little slave He had punished past the point of reason, and laughed.

Hallen shuddered. Though his body hurt, he pulled himself up and got into place. Kneeling on the bed. Head down, arse up. Both holes up, offered to the Divine One.

Akheneus' strong, long-fingered hand patted his shaking thighs.

"Don't worry, cumslut. Soon we'll have you right as rain. I've told them to bring a big vat of nectar here just for you."

Hallen started crying.

He could not, would not gainsay the God. Not now. Not ever again. But he didn't want that, not at all.

"Why, what's the matter?" said Akheneus, speaking slow like he thought Hallen was as dumb as Marigold. "My will, but you sluts get stupider and stupider! I said _nectar_. You all love nectar. That's the thing you always end up begging for. Don't you remember?"

"N-no, Exalted One," Hallen sobbed. "Please. I--I prefer to be in my right mind. I want to Honor You because I choose to, My God. Not because I'm too stupid to know any better."

There was a pause.

Akheneus the Undying came up to the front of the bed and put his fingers on Hallen's chin. Tilted Hallen's face up.

"Huh," he said. "Well, I'll give you this. You really _are_ Ivo's slut. That's Ivo's whole thing. Before he came to the court, he was breaking horses for My last vessel. They were always the sweetest, most obedient animals by the end. But _smart_. Ivo likes to train the Gherik-Shu way, train without fancy tricks. He doesn't like nectar. I'm pretty sure slaves need nectar to really behave, though. You're all so much weaker and stupider than horses, you know."

Hallen shivered. The Lord Undying had a very young look to his bright silver eyes. Hallen had never actually looked him in the eye before, and wasn't expecting that.

"Don't you thirst after the nectar?" asked the Lord Undying quizzically. 

Hallen nodded.

"Y-yes, Exalted One. B-but I--I offer my suffering to You. By Y-Your will, I shall suffer until I don't anymore. That is good and just because it is Your will, as all things are."

Akheneus snorted.

"Amazing! You even _sound_ like Ivo in one of his moods. I love it. Lies low for well over twenty years, never taking a favorite pet. And then he makes himself one that's just right for him. That's my Ivo. Alright, then, little slut. Forget the nectar. Get on your back."

Hallen obeyed, despite the soreness in all his muscles. Akheneus surveyed his naked, messy body, and scrunched up His handsome nose.

"I'm going to fuck that little slavecunt," He informed Hallen. "You see, Ivo's had another victory. He's sacked Vynira. The Vynirans, they've been consorting with the Dokkenai. We can't have that. But Ivo's taken care of it. Him and Ulikka. So I blessed her little pet good long beating this morning, to make him miss her especially. And now I'm going to bless you, in a way that will make Ivo happy. Once you've been cleaned up. This is why I don't like messy tits. If I wanted a sticky slut, I'd go fuck a Toffee Temple acolyte."

He called for the Medical acolytes. They pulled Hallen from the bed and hosed him off. Prepared a nicer bed, too, in a room with big bright windows overlooking the greenhouses. Hallen crawled into that room once he was clean and kneeled obediently before the God.

Maybe -- maybe if he was good, Akheneus would send him back to the vegetable garden. Where he would never have to take nectar or lose himself ever again.

"Lie down on the bed, bitch," Akheneus said cheerfully, shrugging off his golden robes.

Hallen climbed into the big, soft bed. He got on his back and spread his legs. Tried not to think of the pain of taking the God-cock. Marigold had loved it, but that was because Marigold loved all pain. 

Akheneus climbed up over him, humming.

"You're the one that liked pig-cock too, right?" He asked Hallen, as if to Him that awful night had been just like any other. "God. That was _hilarious_. And ha! Look at your stupid little cock! I love it. Ivo asked for you to get modified like this because he knows I think it's funny. Isn't it funny?"

"If Your Divinity says so," Hallen said, flushing with humiliation. He _hated_ his hideous little cock and huge ballsack.

"What -- you don't like it?" Akheneus asked, aghast.

"I--I like it because _You_ like it, Exalted One," Hallen said, though he was crying a bit. "You have given me valuable modifications. I--I'm honored, Great One. Thank you for them. Th-thank you for the stupid cock, and the big balls. And my tits. And my cunt."

"Fuck, were you not a girl to begin with?" said the Lord Undying, eyebrows climbing. "Shit. That's right! You're the one Ivo found in the vegetable gardens. The one he had Lasse--"

And then the Lord Undying was bent over, laughing uproariously.

"Christ," he said. "I forgot. Ivo's best trick."

Hallen blinked up at him, confused and cold.

"Exalted One?" he asked, trying to understand.

The Lord Undying shot a mirthful look at him.

"Forget it," he said. "Forget it, slut. Not important. Don't worry your pretty little head over it. Not that you're that pretty. I thought Ivo was crazy when he said he wanted _you_ \-- Well. But forget that. Spread those fat pussy lips. Come on now."

His thick cock prodded at Hallen's cunt. Hallen hadn't fucked anything in near a week, and was dry enough and tight enough that Akheneus pushing in made him arch his back and gasp in pain.

Akheneus stared at him. Half in him. At least seven inches of the massive cock were hugged snug by Hallen's sore, tight channel.

"I'm sorry," said the God. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Hallen whimpered. 

"I-I'm sorry! I'll be better! I'll be still--"

"Still? Fuck still," said the God. "Why the hell are you acting like it hurts? Don't you sluts all love it?"

Hallen looked at the God through his stupid slave tears.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I--I do love it--"

Akheneus held up a hand, in the middle of what was clearly a personal epiphany.

"Well, fuck Me and every ounce of My Divinity. Ivo was right. It _is_ just the nectar that makes you little cumdumps shudder."

He fucked in all the way, seemingly to test this hypothesis. Hallen screamed, split open on His cock.

"Th-thank You, Your Divinity--"

"Shut up," Akheneus said easily. "You know what? I feel so stupid right now. Everyone's always saying 'oh, Your Awesomeness, of course you have the best cock in the world,' but I always _knew_ it wasn't, right? That's why I had it modified to be more like Zerrik's. Now there's a god with a cock--"

Hallen blinked through his pain, really confused now.

"Why would Your Divinity be modified?" he stammered out. "You are God. You were born perfect--"

"Yes," Akheneus agreed. "And since I'm God, I can order myself to be made more perfect still. What -- you think only slutslaves get modified? Every noble god-family's carving themselves up, bitch. And I have to keep up. You wouldn't _believe_ what a petty fuck the Snow God can be if you don't have the latest modifications."

Now he slid out and fucked in again. It was just as painful as the first thrust. Hallen tried not to cry, but couldn't help it. He was dry and nectar-free, and the big God-cock was nearly twenty inches of ramrod pain in him.

"This isn't half bad!" Akheneus said delightedly. "It's not what I'm used to. But you're clenching so much--"

"--my stupid cunt hurts so badly it just wants to expel Your Divinity's cock--" Hallen confessed, between heavy sobs. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry--"

"Don't be," said Akheneus, fucking in energetically. "It's fun! A dry fuck like this has a little edge, can't think what to call it--"

"Pain?" Hallen suggested. There was so much dry friction as the God speared him open. His face was full of snot.

"You look disgusting," Akheneus informed him happily. "But yeah! I think that's it! Pain! Do you think you could clench harder? I like how tight you are, but let's get you tighter."

Hallen obeyed, wailing. Akheneus even seemed amused by the wails.

"This is what it's like to fuck someone unwilling! I had no idea! It's not half bad!"

"No," Hallen moaned. "No, please, Divine One, I _am_ willing--"

"Willing to hurt?" Akheneus asked, driving in so deep Hallen thought he would die. "Amazing! I love it!"

He came with a huge smile on His Godly face. His cum was thick, hot, and abundant, pumped deep into Hallen's sore cunt.

"Th-thank you, Divine One," Hallen sobbed. "I'm honored. I'm so honored."

The servant standing by the end of the bed cleared her throat. Akheneus looked up.

"A word from the bay of Vynira, Exalted One," she said. "Commander Ivo. He says he has succeeded in chasing away the Dokkenai naval forces, back to their wretched continent. They have no foothold in the mainland now."

Akheneus' grin went even wider.

"By My will!" he told Hallen happily. "Now I get to reward Ivo even more, don't I? His slutslave will have the honor of taking all My cum for a week!"

-

Akheneus was both great and merciful, for when Hallen was installed at the foot of his bed, one tit clamped to a lead tied to the bedpost, the Lord Undying said, "Fine. You don't have to take any nectar this week. You're not leaving my room, anyway, so it's not like you'll be talking to spy-slaves from the other temples, is it?"

"I will talk to no one," Hallen swore. "Only You, Beneficent One!"

"Hm," Akheneus said. “That works too."

Then he tugged Hallen by the tit-leash until Hallen was on all fours on the bed. The Lord Undying climbed on top of Hallen for a second jackhammer-fuck into his brutalized cunt, this time from the back. Hallen collapsed onto his elbows and cried and cried.

"Huh! The blood is kind of nice! Slicks you up just enough. To be honest, a dry fuck might be good for sometimes, but I don't think I like pain all that much," Akheneus panted out.

"Perhaps if Your Divinity p-permitted me some oil," Hallen managed.

"Oil! Good thought. But I don't want you to like it too much. I like how you shudder in pain--"

"I won't like it," Hallen promised sincerely, having the comfort of knowing he was being honest with his God. "I won't, Your Divinity."

"Alright. Next time we try with some oil. How does it feel, by the way? You know the new Palm Tree God -- the one I just elevated to rule Truenka after I killed the last one -- he has bumps on his cock. You think I should get bumps?"

"N- _no_ ," Hallen begged. "Y-your Divinity is perfection. You're so long it feels like I'll die. I can't think about anything but You when I feel this cock. This cock, as it is!"

"It could be longer," Akheneus said thoughtfully. Hallen let his head drop and saw his own stomach distended by the God's thrusts.

"Not necessary," he told Akheneus. "Y-you're the perfect length and th-thickness. P- _please_ don't add bumps or--"

Or barbs. God, please not barbs.

"--or anything else. Your Divinity is s-spectacular!"

Akheneus smacked his ass and laughed.

"Thanks!" He said. "By My Will, talking to a bitch when I fuck them is...it's something else. So weird! But no wonder Ivo likes you. Do you like riding? I love riding. Could ride my horse all day."

"Y-you're an excellent horseman," Hallen said. The Godhead was brushing something in him. Something vulnerable and needy. He moaned into the pain. 

"I--I was on one of your rides--"

"That's right! You survived Zerrik! Ivo sure can pick them. How did he know you were such a perfect slut, I wonder?"

Hallen had no idea. But now his hips fucked back of their own accord. The big cock felt so nice and full. His dirty hole was getting sloppy on it.

Ahkeneus slapped his arse again.

"You trickster!" he crowed. "Just like Ivo! You don't need oil at all! Or nectar to like it!"

"No-oo," Hallen moaned. "Your Divinity feels good now. Hurting b-but g-good."

It felt like that with the nectar, too. But this was better, realer. None of Hallen was drowsy at all. All of Hallen could take the pain, take it and moan at it and know precisely what was happening, know that right now he was experiencing the Divine.

"Praise you, Exalted One," he said, "P-praise you. I--I love you--"

"Well, so do all the slaves," said Akheneus. "But shit! I love this cunt! Yes, clench like that! Fuck, you're so much more responsive than the others! Fuck!"

The second load made Hallen shudder and cum himself. He soaked the God-cock messily. There was a delicious, nasty squelching sound when it pulled out of him. He shook and shook from pleasure and the heavy weight of so much cum inside him.

"That," Akheneus said, with satisfaction, "was the best fuck I've had in a while."

Hallen just moaned. Akheneus massaged the bloated pouch of the boyslut's stomach.

"I usually hate having to fuck you wombed-up bitches," the Lord Undying said. "It's because the other gods, they hate that I'm the best one. So they're always saying, 'oh, lordly one, make Your next vessel.' Because those assholes -- they _know_ it frightens me. The passing on--"

Hallen blinked.

"Why?" he asked his God. "Your Divinity is _Undying_."

"Sure," Akheneus said hurriedly. "Sure. Everyone says that. So I should be honored to breed up a new vessel and be mummified alive -- sorry. Uh. Undead. Be mummified for a few hours, and then, uh, rise with the sun and inhabit the baby or whatever. And that will be be great. But you know what, Ivo's slut?"

His exalted hand found one of Hallen's tits and squeezed it.

"In my time. In my time. Everything goes according to My will, after all."


	11. Over A Hundred Loads

The Lord Undying had modified Himself to cum at least ten times a day.

Hallen had no right to question His whims. So he ended up resorting to tricks he'd picked up in the seraglio. Tit-fucks for His Divinity. Long, rough bouts of sucking the Divine prick. He didn't try to use his arse, for he thought it needed still to heal a bit, but he did everything else he could to please his God.

"I really should be coming in your cunt," Akheneus told him. "Otherwise it's not a gift for Ivo. But you know what? The milk tits aren't bad, actually. I think I liked this the first time you did it, but I didn't see your stupid little grimaces then. They're almost cute!"

"Forgive me," Hallen said. The grimaces were just because his tits were so, so sore. They were stretched tight with milk as if he were nine months pregnant, only he wasn't. This was just what he was now.

He put that to the back of his mind and pleasured the God dutifully. Making a nice, soft pillow for the Divine cock.

"You're not actually good looking," Akheneus panted out, with his head thrown back. "You've got eyes like fucking marsh-grass. And I don't get the freckle thing, I really don't. But Ivo's fixed you up well. Honestly, he _always_ has the best ideas. You know he raised me?"

Hallen was surprised at that. 

"Really, Divine One?"

"Naturally," said the Lord Undying. "My mother was a slutslave. My father was -- well. Uh. My father is the universe itself, obviously. But my last vessel, He was mummified alongside the slut He used to bear me. Ivo was sired by that vessel too -- all the Elite Guard are. He was the oldest child of that vessel. Born out on the steppes. They sent him back here when I was born, to be my regent. He could have been a God himself. We had an opening when the God of Cemeteries died and his whole family irritated me, so I killed them rather than elevate one of them to Godhood. I wanted to elevate Ivo. But Ivo, he said -- 'no, no, that's not the God I want to be. I know the God I want to be.' He knows his own mind. Ivo's a wily one like that."

Hallen could barely process this. He'd had no idea Commander Ivo was this important, this critical to the Court. Offered a Godhood! It made his head spin.

"He's humble," Hallen said.

That was the only explanation. The only reason to turn down elevation. Elevation in _this_ life. That was so out of the bounds of what Hallen understood that Hallen had thought it only ever happened in myths.

Akheneus laughed so hard he was crying.

" _Humble_? Ivo? Ivo's a smug fuck! _You're_ humble, Ivo-slut! 'Humble' is what Ivo makes other people be!"

-

After four days, Akheneus thought to ask his name.

"Hallen," Hallen said shyly. "But Commander Ivo calls me Marigold."

"That's on your stamp," Akheneus said agreeably. "Let's go with that. You owe everything to Ivo, so you might as well take his name for you."

Hallen nodded.

"Forgive me, Divine One. I was presumptuous. I have no name but the one my Commander gives me, of course."

He bowed to show his gratitude at the lesson.

"You're so sweet," Akheneus said. "You really are. I can't believe I gave you to Ivo. It's hilarious. He's this -- this horrible, amazing monster, and you're a little pet that takes anything people give you. Now get up here. You're going to sit on my cock while I have my audiences."

Hallen crawled up to the throne and into the God's lap. Akheneus manhandled him so he was facing out. Then, wincing, Hallen sank his hurting cunt onto the big prick. Akheneus hugged him and groaned, clearly enjoying how the sore muscles fit snug around Him. 

"Clench, alright, Marigold?" the God ordered. "Milk Me. So I can give you lots of loads. Ivo will be back in a week, and maybe by then we'll have his reward ready for him."

Hallen sat like that for hours, as the other Gods came to pay homage and make deals. Clenching and clenching, sometimes lifting himself by his weak thighs and fucking down. It was awful at first, and then almost good. He was full of his Lord, blessed by His seed. He coaxed out four whole loads like that, loads of hot, sticky cum that dribbled out around the big cock inside him.

Sometimes the DIvine One pissed as well. Hallen took that too. He mumbled shamed little thanks at it, shamed because he still didn't really like this. Even if he should, because this was the God.

"Fuck, you're dirty," Akheneus said happily. "I wish I could be fucking your arse right now, but they want to see Me in your cunt."

Hallen was noticing that. Noticing the sly way the other gods -- the Octopus God, the Snow God, Xeo-Philia, even the Arbor God and the God of Taxes -- all looked assessingly at Akheneus' prick in his throbbing hole.

"Why does it please them so, Divine One?" he mumbled out, during a brief recess between audiences.

Perhaps they were pleased because the God was pleased. But Hallen didn't think that was it. Many of them came to complain that their taxes were too high, and the God of Taxes came to complain because they were not high enough. A few, like Xeo-Philia, came to present very high bills for aphrodisiacs or slave modifications.

They didn't treat the Divine One correctly at _all_. Hallen was disgusted and angry over it.

"I told you!" Akheneus said now, squeezing one of his sore nipples and bringing the milk to His own lips. "They want Me to breed a new vessel. Even though I'm not yet twenty! But they like the thought of Me mummified early. When the Lord Undying is a child, they have free rein over all the kingdoms. Only the last time I was young, Ivo denied them that. _He_ went head to head with them. They couldn't even buy him off. His faith in Me is too great."

Hallen was awed.

"He's a good man," he realized numbly.

Akheneus laughed. His dark, slender hands lifted up Hallen's hips and then fucked him, hard, onto the God-prick again. Hallen gave a pained grunt. But his cunt was spasming, coming again.

"I want to make Ivo happy," Akheneus said. "So do you, sloppy-slut. Right?"

His hands found the place where Hallen's stretched cunt was shining wetly and played with the mess there. Hallen's head lolled back. He couldn't believe how -- how _lucky_ he was. Coming because His God willed it. As Hallen, Hallen with his Hallen-mind, and only Marigold's pretty name.

Thanks to Commander Ivo.

"I owe him all I am and all I have, as I owe it to You, Divine One," he gasped out. 

And he meant it.

-

Ivo did not return for over a week, and in that time Hallen learned many things.

He learned that the Lord Undying was nineteen, and that He'd already executed twenty-thousand traitors and conquered fourteen lands. He learned that Akheneus had once cried because a little pug dog of his had choked to death on a bone. He learned that the Corporals were selected because they were the most like Ivo, the meanest and cleverest of the Elite Guard, and that Akheneus loved them best of all His brothers and sisters.

He learned that Akheneus missed Commander Lasse.

"Lasse. Was. The best," Akheneus said, during one fuck-session in which He had Hallen bent over a table. "He was the prankster, you know? Even though he was my second-oldest brother. He--well. Ivo should have retired before him. Let's just say that. But I swear, it's like Ivo doesn't even want to retire."

"Re-retired?" Hallen managed. The God-cock never got any easier to take. Not even when it started to feel good, like it did now. "I thought Commander Lasse was -- ah! Was _banished_ , Your Divinity. Betrayed You and fled to the Dokkenai."

There was a pause. Akheneus even paused in His fucking.

" _Sure_ ," He said, before resuming His hard thrusts again. "Let's go with that, Marigold. Hey! You know what? I tried taking some other slavesluts off the nectar, to see if they'd be good fucks like this. Like you are. But one of them died, so it didn't work."

Hallen gave a horrified cry. Not Holly, please, let it not be his Holly--

"Calla-something," said the Lord Undying. "Sad. Well, you live, you learn. Would have been nice to cut nectar costs, though. That shit's expensive."

-

When the servant came to announce that Ivo, Ulikka, and twelve hundred soldiers were on the road to the palace, Hallen was curled up on his cushion by the foot of His bed.

Dozing, by His grace. Hallen's cunt was too pained for him to really sleep, but he could try to rest while Akheneus sat at His desk and read over some tax statements.

Akheneus dropped those at once now. He rushed to Hallen's cushion and kicked the slave fully awake.

"He's here!" he said. "Come on, bitch! Let's get you pretty for him. Fuck, fuck, what does Ivo like best? Oh, right. Tits. Servant! Get me some nice ropes. I want these tits bound up."

Hallen had his hands and raised ankles manacled to the God's headboard. His heavy tits were bound with rope until they were fat droplets, jetting milk out in their pain. Akheneus lined himself up with Hallen's bare cunt and plunged in. 

He thrust so brutally Hallen's whole body jerked. Hallen was crying in seconds, whimpering like he was being killed. He bounced on the big cock, just a tied-up hole for the Sun Over The Mountains.

Ivo walked in when Akheneus was just about ready to come.

"F-fuck!" cried the spoiled young God. "Ivo! I hate you so much! You were supposed to give me a second to make this cunt all sloppy!"

"Oh, it looks sloppy, Exalted One," Ivo said, a thick black brow raised.

Hallen was wet by now. Akheneus was fucking out slippery noises as He plowed into him deep, the tip of His massive cock pushing into Hallen's sore womb on every thrust. Hallen had to take big breaths before he could get up the voice to say what the God had instructed him to say.

"Wel-ah! Welcome home, C-commander. My dirty hole has taken over a hundred loads for you. M-maybe I'll soon swell up with a baby."

Ivo looked, of all things, surprised. He dropped his sword and his heavy traveling rucksack, and came to the divine bed. One of his meaty hands smacked one of Hallen's abused tits, hard.

"He's not on nectar," Ivo said.

"Oh," said Akheneus, still fucking wildly. "Yes. Begged not to take it. And fuck you, Ivo. You were right! You _can_ get a nice slaveslut without making them dependent on it!"

Then the Lord Undying was cumming, giving Hallen yet another load. Wet, hot cum coating his insides, getting right in his womb. Hallen milked the cock as his God liked him to.

But he kept his eyes on Commander Ivo. The Commander looked...looked _wondering_ , somehow.

"Exalted One, you surprise me every goddamn day," he muttered.

"Better be a good surprise," said Akheneus, panting. He slapped Hallen's cheek a few times, as a thank you for the fuck. 

"Might be a good surprise," said Ivo. "We'll see."

When the God pulled out, Ivo's dirty hand, still mud-splattered from the road, rubbed Hallen's cunt.

"Marigold," Ivo said. "How do you feel?"

Hallen blinked at him.

"Honored," he said. "Honored. Thank you, Commander. Thank you."

Commander Ivo laughed his wonderful laugh. His heavy belly shook. He tore off his leathers and climbed onto the bed, a huge brown, scarred beast made of muscles and sinew. His big, fat prick was already hard.

 _It's not modified_ , Akheneus mouthed, from behind him, looking like an elated child. _Ivo was just born like that!_

By the God's own grace, Hallen thought, closing his eyes and breathing in deep. 

Getting himself ready for the pain. There would be pain. But he would be open, willing to take it. Commander Ivo and the God would see there was no need to drug him. Hallen would be better than the stupid Marigold, more faithful, more beautifully broken.

The Commander's rough hands mauled his hurting tits.

"These are nice," he said pleasantly. "How do you feel about these, Marigold?"

"They honor me," Hallen said at once.

"And this?"

Commander Ivo smacked his cunt, hard. Hallen jerked and gasped. 

"I-it does me honor, Commander. Everything you have done to me does me honor."

"That's right," Ivo said. "Look at me, Mari-slut."

Hallen's eyes flew open. Locked on his master's. Ivo slid into his arse slowly, making Hallen feel every painful inch. His chest heaved, as he gulped and gulped for air. Ivo was not so long as Akheneus, but he was worse because he was thicker. And this was another dry-fuck. Hallen would be bleeding again when Ivo was done.

"What do you say?" Ivo asked him, almost gently.

"P-praise be," Hallen said. "Praise to the Lord Undying! Praise to His mercy and j-justice! Praise for this f-fucking, and for your big, big cock!"

"That's _right_ ," Ivo said, delighted. His thick fingers plunged into Hallen's sloppy cunt, getting in deep. Crooking, finding a spot that made Hallen gasp.

Good. So good.

But the God gave no pleasures that weren't also punishments. Because now Ivo's cock was spearing Hallen's arse open. Hallen the dirty slaveslut. Hallen jerked convulsively when Ivo started fucking him for real, jerked and jerked and screamed his thanks for the pleasure and the pain. Thanks to his God, and thanks to Ivo.


	12. Slavebreaker

They passed an excellent night welcoming Ivo back.

Excellent for Ivo and Akheneus. Hallen, his pleasure mattered less. 

By early morning, Hallen was sinking his sore, swollen cunt down onto the Lord Undying's cock for another endless round of hard fucking. Hallen was also slurping around Ivo's thick prick. Ivo had actually done as he'd promised so long ago and connected Hallen's freckles with cum, only Hallen had so many freckles that this just meant his whole face was covered in it.

For an older man, though, Ivo had just about no refractory period. Hallen hadn't dared ask if this was a modification, for it wasn't his place to ask, but then he didn't need to. Akheneus had complained about Ivo simply being a freak of nature around the fifth or sixth time Ivo had cum on the boyslut.

"You have blessed me with stamina, Exalted One," was all Ivo said, with a grin.

"I have blessed you with a smart fucking mouth," the God had snapped.

But He'd been grinning. He really did love His most faithful soldier. Good old Ivo, who knew just how to make a slave beg to choke on cock.

Without the nectar. Simply because Hallen wanted to beg. Beg to show he was a good slave, a slave who could be faithful without madness and pain. 

Ivo didn't taste good. He was too much a man, too sweaty and rank. And his cum was unpleasant, too, thick and viscous. He came so much that it bubbled up out of Hallen's nose as Hallen choked and tried desperately to swallow. Ivo chuckled.

"What?" Akheneus said instantly. "What? Did he do something funny?"

"Mari-slut's just pretty with cum-snot on him," Ivo said. He petted Hallen's hair. His big cock slid out of Hallen's mouth, leaving the boyslut gasping a bit. 

Commander Ivo scooped the cum on Hallen's face past Hallen’s open lips. He said, "Milk that big God-cock, baby. Get another load in you. I want you taking a thousand loads, so that slut-belly swells up."

"Ha!" said Akheneus. "So you _do_ want to retire!"

Hallen was too focused on swallowing cum and clenching around the Divine prick, to really understand the connection between his belly swelling and Ivo retiring.

Ivo just grinned.

"'Course I do, Exalted One. I just couldn't until Ulikka was ready to take command. But she is, and Aimu's no leader, but he has a great deal of experience he's willing to pass on before _he_ retires. Fedorer will be an excellent second-in-command for You after that, and Reyee's devotion is so damn near perfect I think she could take all my jobs on, if she wanted them. And Geir and Keir, the berserker twins, they're just about ready to be promoted to Your cabinet. I can finally leave You in good hands. Even this Dokkenai shit is practically wrapped up in a little bow."

"Yes!" Akheneus said. His big cock was jerking inside Hallen, spurting another load. Hallen clenched around it, taking cum from both sides. Washed in cum.

"Now I can _elevate_ y--"Akheneus began, but Ivo cut him off.

"Pardon, Exalted One, but no. Not yet. Let me tie off this business with the Dokkenai. I've been writing Lasse. I have a few thoughts about where we can go with this. It'll be fun. If I can pull it off for You, _then_ I'll deserve a godhood."

Hallen opened his mouth for more cum, but then closed it again. This -- this was confusing. This didn't make sense. Commander Ivo was writing Lasse? But -- but Lasse was a traitor.

Akheneus was groaning now. He shoved Hallen off of His prick, and then Commander Ivo was pulling Hallen by his tit-leash off the bed.

"Where's his bedding? Oh, here," said Ivo. "Get on your back, legs up against the footboard, slut baby. Womb up. Let that cum pool in you."

The Commander shoved pillows under his hips, to keep him contorted in place. Hallen blinked at him. Wanting to ask, to understand.

But. But it wasn't his place to understand. It was only his place to accept, to accept the God's will even if it was confusing. 

"I'm gonna go get some food," Ivo said. "Fucking starving. Get some sleep, Exalted One. We'll talk more in a bit." 

He wound the tit-leash around the footboard and left Hallen like that, lying there in pain and discomfort. Hallen couldn't sleep like that. He ended up gnawing on his own tit, like he had in the medical halls. Letting milk fill up his mouth and ease the hunger in his own belly. Akheneus wasn't great about feeding him. That seemed to have been a problem with the pug dog as well.

But at least Hallen felt no thirst now. He was past the nectar-withdrawal, it seemed. He'd survived it, unlike the poor Calla Lily, who'd died.

That hurt something in him. There was still so much hurt and confusion in him. Maybe it would never go away. Once, he'd thought that if he were more valuable, or if he were a more honored being, he might not hurt. But that was stupid thinking. Even the Lord Undying had his hurts. Hurt was clearly part of His divine will. Hurt for everyone. 

Hallen had to accept it.

 _Accept,_ he chanted in his mind, as he sucked on his own sore tits. _Accept. Please, Divine Godhood. Teach me to accept._

-

In the morning, Ivo called for a crystal bowl for Commander and God to fill with their piss. Hallen lapped that piss up like a dog, on his hands and knees, while the Undying One put another rough load in his cunt. 

“How’s that Exalted Cock feel, slut-baby?” Ivo asked him, when Hallen was done drinking his sour breakfast. Ivo was still standing over the bowl with his soft cock out, massaging it to hardness. Hallen had asked to suck it and been rebuffed, so now he just focused on the Commander’s question. 

Hallen wanted to say ‘good,’ or ‘another honor He does me,’ but Ivo added, with a gleam in his dark eyes, “Be honest now, my Mari-bitch.”

Hallen whimpered. 

The truth was, the God-cock was inhuman and monstrous, too long, too fast, spurting out horrifying amounts of cum. Hallen hadn’t had a flat belly in over a week. And his cunt was even more worn and ugly than it had been in the seraglio. It was a fucked-sore bright red, always a little open, always twitching out a bit of Divine cum. The nastiest, foulest slut-hole. A cunt that came despite all the abuse being heaped on it.

“I-it hurts me so much,” Hallen confessed. “Even when it starts to feel good, Honored One, it hurts me, for then the humiliation is almost too much. By His Divine will, my pussy is ruined. The God teaches me that I’m a worthless bitch for Him. I—I’m thus blessed to know my place. May His Divine cock hurt me more, Honored One. May He destroy my ruined slave-hole until I learn the meaning of true grace.”

“Oh My fucking _will_!” cried Akheneus, his nails digging painfully into Hallen’s hips. He stilled and was cumming again, a fresh batch of cum for the bitchslave. “I love this shit, Ivo! None of the other ones are half this dirty!”

Ivo ruffled Hallen’s hair. He smiled. An easy smile, not a dangerous one, and Hallen felt relieved to see it. 

“Smart,” Ivo said. “Aren’t you, Marigold?”

Hallen looked down. He had no right to agree. 

“By the God’s will.”

Ivo laughed his glorious laugh. 

“See? Smart. A smart slave is a fucking joy. Like a smart horse. Smart enough to anticipate the answers and the pleasures maybe even you don't know you want. That’s why I prefer smart, strong slaves. Hardworking, humble sluts who can endure, like my sweet Mari-bitch here.”

He leaned down and kissed Hallen, hot and wet and demanding, as the God-cock slid out of Hallen’s twitching cunt. 

“How do we get the rest of them like this?” Akheneus demanded. “I want more sluts like this, Ivo.”

Ivo broke off the kiss, still smiling. He kicked aside the bowl, crouched, and began to play with one of the tits he so enjoyed. 

“My slave-breaking principles are pretty simple, Exalted One. Start with one that’s not too wild. That’s low and ready for it. Be careful what you tell them. Come on _nice_. Don’t dope them up so much. Use half the fucking nectar if you can, so they can be weaned off it—“

“That’s a money saver,” Akheneus said. Hallen could hear Him moving around, splashing His face clean by the golden sink in the corner of the room and pulling on what was probably a golden robe. Ivo was still basically dirty from the road, and now he sat his big body on the floor and guided Hallen’s mouth to his foul-tasting prick. 

Hallen was getting used to this. He sucked while Ivo spoke. Now the Commander was committed and passionate. 

“I’ll leave Your Divinity detailed instructions, don’t worry. But if You remember those basic principles You should be fine. Everyone has a different way of breaking a bitch, Exalted One. You just have to find what works for You. Have a little fun with it.”

He pulled Hallen off his cock so he could slap Hallen’s face with it. Hallen lolled his tongue out and bore this until the big prick was fed to him again. 

“But don’t spring for the fancy modifications,” Ivo warned. “For the Marigold-slut, I basically only splurged on the tits. I didn't give him reduced pain. I didn't give him the self-lubricating back hole. It’s better for him to suffer. If he suffers, really suffers, he knows his place and learns to live with it, instead of thinking he deserves more.” 

Hallen couldn’t help it. He nodded around the big cock in his mouth. 

Both Ivo and Akheneus, who’d crossed to His reading table, saw this. They both laughed. 

“Right! He’s following our conversations! I keep forgetting,” Akheneus said. “He’s even smarter than Chickie.”

“I should hope he’s smarter than Your pug dog, Exalted One.” 

“Hey!” Akheneus said, stung. “Fuck you, Ivo. Chickie was smart.”

Ivo just ruffled Hallen’s hair again, before making the boy choke down enough cock that it prodded at the back of his throat. Hallen’s jaw was stretched and he had to breathe through his nose. 

“I’m going to assume, Exalted One, that You told my little Marigold whatever popped into Your head, because You forgot he can follow conversations?” Ivo said. 

His thick fingers pinched Hallen’s nose. Hallen started to choke in earnest, unable to get air. In seconds he was heaving and gagging on the big cock, unable to think. 

“That’s the only benefit to nectar,” Ivo was saying. “Makes sluts too dumb to snitch. What did You and my Mari-bitch talk about, Exalted One, if I may ask?”

Hallen needed air. He needed air. He sputtered and sputtered and only got cock. His eyes rolled back, and he passed out. 

-

When he woke, the piss-bowl was full of nectar. He could smell it, the sickly-sweet smell he now knew to be madness and poison.

He tried to get away from it, pressing his body back against the footboard. He--he had so hoped that if he was good, if he pleased Him, really pleased Him and pleased Ivo--

"Marigold," Ivo said now.

He was sitting in Akheneus' desk chair. The young God was nowhere to be seen. It was just Ivo. Ivo and his favorite slaveslut, Marigold.

"It's the will of the God," Ivo said pleasantly, "that all bitchslaves like you take nectar. I'm pretty sure we talked about that. You can't be caught spreading His secrets to the other Gods. Most of them are not His allies, Marigold. Only the true faithful are His allies. And the faithful are called to give Him all they can. For slutty little holes like you, Marigold, that means gladly going stupid when you need to."

Hallen wanted to cry. 

But, somehow, he knew that would mean nothing to Ivo. Ivo was a general and a war veteran and a Gherik-Shu horsebreaker. A slavebreaker, really. He liked to beat you and beat you, and he wanted you to feel it, and he wanted you to let it make you strong.

Strong in submission. 

Hallen crawled back to the bowl, head hanging low.

"He's told you a lot of secrets, Mari-bitch," Ivo said softly. "Probably more than He realizes. So do what's right for Him now."

Hallen nodded.

"Forgive me," he confessed. "Forgive me. I thought I was cured of my treachery, Honored One. But I wasn't. I was still thinking of myself. Thinking that I don't want to drink this. But what I want doesn't matter."

He was such a failure. All his life, he'd tried to honor the God, and each time a real test came he failed it. Tears did appear in his eyes now, piteous and self-hating ones. No wonder he was so low. No wonder he was nothing. He was really, _really_ nothing. 

He deserved to lose himself. To only be himself when Ivo granted him that privilege.

He put his mouth to the crystal rim of the bowl. But before he drank, he said, "Honored One?"

"Yes?" Ivo asked dangerously.

"Please beat Marigold, Honored One," Hallen whispered. "Please. Please hurt me. Not to bring me back to myself. B-but because I need punishment, Honored One. Make it funny for Him if you can, please. I--I would like to make Him laugh."

 _Ivo_ laughed. 

He smacked his big belly, that heavy thick pad stretched over so much hard soldier muscle. 

"Babyslut!" he said, delighted, tears of mirth in his eyes, "Of _course_. I can do that, Mari-bitch. I can't _wait_ to do that."

Hallen gulped and then got his head in the bowl. The nectar was horribly wonderful, a familiar comfort on his tastebuds. He lapped it up like an animal, fast about it so he wouldn't lose his nerve. Lapped and lapped and planned to do penance by licking the bowl clean when he got to the bottom, but--

But his stomach heaved almost instantly. His body shuddered. He felt acid in his throat, and then he was vomiting, vomiting right into the bowl and wasting the expensive liquid.

He gagged, crying now at his body's revolt. He hadn't meant to do that. He didn't want to. Or, he did want to, but he didn't want to want that. He wanted to be good for the Lord Undying, he really did.

Ivo's heavy tread stomped over. He grabbed Hallen's hair and painfully bent back his head.

"Stick out your tongue, my little bitch," he ordered. There was something wild and excited in his dark, oddly-shaped eyes. Hallen was frightened of it. He stuck out his sour, vomit-tinged tongue.

Ivo laughed again.

" _Gold_ ," he said. "Babyslut. It's bright gold. Do you know -- you all get modified special? The Clever Lady fixes you up so, when it's not just you in there in that slutty little slave body, when you're nice and _bred_ , a simple nectar-drink will reveal it to everyone. Marigold. My little bitch-cunt. You're pregnant."

Akheneus suddenly ran into the room. He wore a golden towel around His waist, apparently having just been in the adjoining bathroom.

"Woohoo!" the God cheered, hopping about madly. "Take that, Ivo! How do you like my present now?"

Ivo grinned, slow and mad-seeming.

"Your Divinity has blessed me," he said. "Like You blessed Commander Tynan with her Jasmine, Wennyu with his Zinnia. Lasse with his Iris."

"It's the modified cum," the God confided. " _You_ said it was a bad idea for Me to get the increased cum modification, but really, Ivo. I'm a God! If I'm weren't good at spreading My Divine seed, I'd just be an embarrassment to Myself!"

Hallen just sat there on the floor before them, opening and closing his mouth stupidly. Like the dumb little bitch he was.

"Y--your Divinity, You _gave_ Lasse the Iris?" he rasped out.

"Of course He did," Ivo said, that wicked grin becoming more wicked still. "All things are His will. And it is His will that He not be reborn yet. That's why the pleasure-sluts are only ever tended to by His most loyal soldiers. So that when your slutty little bellies swell, He can gift you used-up bred bitches to our retirees. We get to smuggle you out of the Land Between the Mountains and keep you forever, babyslut."

"In secret, you understand," Akheneus put in now, eager to explain this to Hallen like Hallen was a new friend and not a worthless bitchslave who'd begged to be pumped with His cum. "The other gods would obviously clamor to replace Me with the new babies if they knew about them. So it has to be a secret. Because if those children were born here, well. Then the Sacred Cradle would lift Me out of My body and drop Me right into the new body."

Then he scowled.

"I mean. That's what they _say_ , anyway. It doesn't matter to Me. I just don't want to be mummified yet, you understand."

Hallen stared at Him, as if He were not a God but a mortal man who could be rudely gawked at. 

"B-but Lasse asked me to get the key for him," he mumbled out, his head spinning. "He -- it was like it had to be a secret. And Commander Ivo said I would be betraying You. And -- and why did you need _me_ , Divinity? Why involve me at all?"

He was heaving up big breaths, his mind and soul and heart and lungs in disarray. He felt like he couldn't think.

Akheneus smiled. And Ivo -- Ivo actually came forward and lifted Hallen up like he weighed nothing, making the boyslut sit on his big forearm. His hand smacked Hallen's tit, hard, just to see it jiggle.

"We didn't, Marigold," said Ivo, with relish. "I just wanted to make your transition to slaveslut exciting, bitch-baby. I saw you getting whipped in the vegetable garden and crying out for the God weeks before. That was when I realized how fun it would be to start breaking you. Breaking you even before you realized you were being broken.

"Hasn't it been _fun_ , Marislut?"

His thick fingers painfully twisted one of Hallen's sore nipples. Behind him, Akheneus was still laughing and jumping around.

"I told you! Ivo's great! He's so funny!"

Hallen -- this was what Hallen had just asked for. This. To be hurt, just to amuse his God.

Hallen giggled. But no, no, it wasn't Hallen. He wasn't Hallen. He was the Marigold. The Marigold, broken into a giggling, mad little slutslave, even though he hadn't kept down any of the nectar.

"It's funny," he giggled, feeling his mind shatter, his sense of self slide away. What did his self matter? It didn't. He'd been tricked and fucked and hurt for months, and for what? For nothing. 

"It is funny," Marigold gasped out, laughing wildly as his tit was mauled and his cunt throbbed and his brain broke. "It is. Oh, oh thank you. It's so, so funny."

-

By the time he started to show, it had been a month since Ivo had stolen him away.

Or, no. Not stolen. 

Ivo retired with honors, and the gift of an obedient slaveslut. Ivo was feted all the way down the Palace road, feted until they reached the mountains encircling the kingdom. A joyous parade of dancing slaves and preening nobles and arrogant gods and laughing guardsmen, and the God Himself riding alongside His most beloved brother, riding Zerrik as Ivo rode a magnificent black stallion from the steppes that he'd apparently broken himself.

Marigold rode in front of him, naked, hands tied to the saddle. Ivo's huge prick in his arse, painfully jostling him with every step the horse took. Ivo would milk his tits and let jets of it hit the crowd lining the roads, crowds of farm-slaves and mine-slaves and garden-slaves, all bowing low to their God and his commander. Tears of happiness and obedience in their eyes.

Marigold laughed every so often. Not for any reason. Just because, now, all he could find deep within the well of himself was a laugh. You had to laugh, you really did.

Past the mountains, Ivo's caravan of servants continued without them to the steppes, a Gherik-Shu attendant very like Ivo taking the saddle of the black stallion. Ivo switched to a big bay horse, and, under cover of night, rode down to the port with Marigold.

In the port's dingy inn, Ivo gave a different name. And he actually made Marigold wear clothes and a headscarf. He introduced Marigold as his little wife, and when they took a private room made the slaveslut kneel before him so he could shave Marigold's head.

Marigold didn't know why he cried at that. It made no more sense to cry than it did to laugh. But still. He'd thought his hair was his own, because he was so stupid. But even that wasn't his own. Nothing was his. You couldn't have anything, not a self, not the right to your own hair, if you were nothing.

"I'll miss it too, baby," Ivo told him. "But it's necessary. Now get on the bed. I think I've waited long enough to try my little Mari's cunt, haven't I?"

Only Akheneus had ever fucked it before. But now it belonged to Ivo. Now all three holes, and in fact the rest of Marigold, belonged to Ivo.

Marigold had assumed that Akheneus had probably learned to fuck from watching Ivo. From watching Marigold's master destroy a slut, a dumb little hole just like Marigold. He couldn't help but tremble shamefully, as if he had the right to reject Ivo. He couldn't help but cry as the big body got on top of him.

But Ivo was almost kind. 

Not too kind. His cock would never be comfortable inside Marigold. Marigold was too small to really take it well, as he'd been too small to take the God without pain. Ivo's thick rod was like that -- punishing in its girth alone. 

But Ivo made him feel it, feel it so slow and dragging in him. Feel how full he was.

"Like that, baby?" he asked Marigold tenderly. "How's that feel, baby?"

"G-good, Honored Master--" Marigold panted out. 

"Aw, my Mari-slut. This is the God's gift to you. This, forever. Every time you hurt, you're gonna like it so much, won't you, my Mari-bitch?"

Marigold sobbed. 

"Y-yes, Honored One! Thank you!"

Ivo rubbed his bald head and fucked him and fucked him, leaving Marigold incoherent. A shaking little slutslave, every wail a wail of worship for Ivo's prick.

When they got on the boat, Ivo tied him to the bunk in their cabin, so his holes would be always available throughout the journey. Every night he fucked Marigold, but during the day he would rub the barely-there bump of Marigold's stomach and make his will and his plan known to the slave.

"I've got business with those fucking Dokkenai, babyslut," he said. "And I knew I wanted a smart little bitch with me. You look like my mother, you know that? She was a dumb slutslave, but redhaired and freckled. Like you. Got sent away with the Commander that raised me when _he_ retired. He hated that she wasn't smart enough to anticipate his whims. He beat her to death, because she wasn't much good for anything else but to be beaten to death. But _you_ , baby-bitch. You're not like her. You're going to be valuable to me.

"See, the Dokkenai are fucking perverse. They worship a god they say has no form. How sick is that? They think humans _can't_ be elevated to gods, that God is just -- just the fucking air or something. You ask me, that's no god. But they're dumb, so they swear he is. The Hospitality God. The Dokkenai are nuts for politeness, and welcome, and offering gifts to their guests. That's going to be their downfall, Marigold. Me and you and Lasse, we're going to make that their downfall."

A disobedient, stupid part of Marigold, the last shred of Hallen, didn't want to do that. That Hallen didn't want to be tied to a bunk in a wave-tossed ship, taking Ivo's cock and listening to Ivo's monologues. That faithless Hallen didn't even want to leave the sacred Land Between The Mountains. He cried about that sometimes, when Ivo had gone up on deck to get food for them.

But what Hallen wanted didn't matter. _Marigold_ only wanted to be good, and do his part for Ivo and the Lord Undying.

The only thing Ivo had packed onto the bay horse, other than some clothes, some weapons, some money, and Marigold, was a big vat of nectar. He said it wasn't for Marigold. Marigold knew that if Ivo changed his mind on a whim, then that would be that. He told himself to be grateful for this. It was a check on him, to ensure Ivo's worthless slut would never, ever let himself be as proud and profane as Hallen ever again.

So he tried to be good for Ivo. He thanked Ivo after every fuck, and prayed to show his faith and meekness whenever he wasn't being fucked. When he was let up to relieve himself and to wash a bit, he always asked to wash Ivo too. To relieve Ivo, too. 

"Please, Honored One," he would say, kneeling before his master. "He gave me to you, and I am blessed to serve you by His command. Please allow me to fulfill His plan for me."

"Aw, Marislut," Ivo would say, patting his now-bald head. "Baby. You want old Ivo's piss? Open up that swollen little mouth-cunt. There you go. So _smart_ , baby. How did you know I wanted you to take it?"

And sometimes he licked Ivo's pucker for him, got that foul hole sloppy and wet. Ivo liked that while he fucked Marigold's tits. He was rough about that too, but not so rough as he could be, considering. He had next to no interest in torturing Marigold's little cock or his big ballsack. In fact, he promised Marigold that, when they were done with the Dokkenai, he'd have Marigold modified again. This time cut down entirely.

"You don't need a cock or balls, my little bitch. You need pretty flower tattoos on your tits, and my name stamped above your cunt to let people know who you belong to. The cock and balls are irrelevant, Marigold."

Marigold nodded under Ivo's fat arse, getting his tongue in deep. It would be faithless bitch-weakness, mourning for the body he would never have again. No, better to pray his thanks to the God. If he didn't have a cock or balls, then he couldn't be hurt there.

The Dokkenai continent was snowy, and when they docked Ivo made him wear clothes again. Strange Dokkenai clothes, a long skirt that billowed and a wrap made of scratchy wool. They took up with a trading party on the main road away from the port, and Ivo adopted a thick Gherik-Shu accent. He gave the same false name he had before and introduced Marigold as his wife again. Marigold nodded and played along, silent and agreeable.

They traveled for two nights with the trading party, on their way to the Dokkenai capitol. Ivo pretended to be bringing a cask of rare Truenka palm-wine to his business partner, an innkeeper there. He tricked the Dokkenai trading party into drinking some of the nectar that way, and laughed himself silly on the first night as the fair-skinned, silver-eyed Dokkenai traders crawled around like little bitchsluts.

They were all shocked at their hangovers the next morning, but chalked it up to the fine vintage offered by their new Gherik-Shu friend. They weren't inclined to be angry at Ivo. By that morning, Ivo had come around entirely to the worship of the Hospitality God.

He praised the false god and pledged to honor that god, and, to prove that Ivo's faith was real, the trading party stopped several times so Marigold could take Dokkenai cock in his holes. Plowed in the snow, his big skirt forced up to bunch about his hips. 

In exchange for this, the traders told them a great deal about the various government houses in the city. The feuds between the Dokkenai bureaucrats all trying to out-polite each other in increasingly dangerous ways. In exchange for some of Marigold's milk, some of them even spoke of the Dokkenai council house, of its tremendous garrison which held the scrolls of the last prophet of the Hospitality God.

Marigold, by now with a rounded belly to match his leaking tits, was tremendously valuable to Ivo here in the lands of the Dokkenai. For wifesharing, it turned out, was the easiest way to gain Dokkenai trust. Renting out Marigold's holes, offering Marigold to new cocks that could roughly fuck the panting slave -- that was Ivo, wily Ivo's, preferred form of hospitality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Ivo’s name Ivo because it sounds like “evil.” Yes. I’m not a subtle person.


	13. Love

The Dokkenai tiled all their buildings in purple tile that frosted over in the cold, so that their capital city looked made of amethyst. Lasse's inn was no exception, a large, tiled purple hall with a sturdy roof, waiting for them on the side of the road.

The Jullskint had made himself at home. Very at home. As Ivo shouldered his way into the inn's central room, Marigold followed meekly behind him and carried the heavy sack of their clothes and essentials, cum still running down his legs from the last Dokkenai load he'd taken. The former Commander Lasse was mid-speech.

"So I says, I says to this _fucking false god_ \--" Lasse cried, pointing a finger about wildly as a number of silver-eyed Dokkenai drunks cheered, "--I'm going to _take_ your bitch! And there's nothing you can do to stop me, is there, because you're just a teenaged devil, hiding behind idolatry! Bitch!"

The drunks roared with laughter. 

Ivo set the vat of nectar down on the floor by the inn bar. Then he called out, his voice clear and loud even if he was still putting on his thick Gherik-Shu accent, "You fixed that spoiled little despot good, brother!"

Lasse, who was standing on a table, turned. Saw his fellow former Commander. His handsome pale face split into a grin that even Marigold thought could not be fake.

"Brother!" he crowed. "Friends, this is he! This is the fellow rebel I told you about! The man who helped get me to freedom from the hell-pits of the false Akheneus' court!"

The assembled Dokkenai let out another cheer. Most were just cheering because they were drunk, but a few seemed to be cheering because they were genuinely impressed. Lasse and Ivo embraced before them, Ivo contriving to have tears in his eyes. 

He said, "Thank the Hospitality God, the only _true_ god, that we are no longer slaves, Lasse my brother. That we are as free as all these good men around us."

Another cheer. 

Lasse now said, "Who's using my wife? Where is the bitch? I must offer her to my brother--"

And now one of the Dokkenai gave a groan. He pulled a figure out from under his bar table, a figure Marigold scarcely recognized.

The Iris. Mouth swollen and sticky with precum, and a little dark-skinned baby in a sling at his tit. He was not half as beautiful as he'd been before. His hair was lank and his eyes were dull. There was a bruise on his collarbone. He was shivering, topless and wearing only a scratchy woolen skirt as full as Marigold's, with a full woolen apron that had been untied at the neck to hang down in a slovenly fashion. 

Lasse prodded him towards Ivo.

The Iris stumbled forward. 

"P-pleath--" he said. "'m cunt. On th'house w-- wi' your drink. 'm on th'house. Wi-- Wi' your drink."

He was making strange shapes with his mouth. Thirst shapes. Horrified, Marigold realized who the nectar was for.

The Iris had never been broken of the need for it. 

His hands spasmed uncontrollably as he tried to undo Ivo's leggings. He kept shooting terrified looks back at Lasse, whose handsome face now looked very, very cruel.

Marigold closed his eyes. Prayed.

When the God, the laughing teenaged God of tricks and pain, the Undying One, the only God that mattered appeared in his mind's eye, he decided he would try it. This idea. 

He had a sense that Ivo would like it. That Ivo had been building to it anyway.

He dropped his sack and came forward. 

"Please," he said, kneeling next to the Iris in front of his master. "Beloved, most dear to me. The breath in my lungs, the hand guiding me. Shall we offer _our_ hospitality as well?"

He hiked up his skirt to show his bare arse. The Dokkenai murmured appreciatively.

Ivo's black eyes danced merrily.

 _Smart_ , he mouthed down at his little slaveslut.

"Lasse, my brother," he said firmly. "We have not come to impose on your hospitality. We've come to offer our own thanks and do our own honor to the Hospitality God--"

Another joyous cheer from the Dokkenai.

"--thus, during our stay, I would be pleased indeed if my little wife could help yours at her work. She's a hard worker, my little bitch."

Marigold reared up enough to show the Dokkenai his cunt. Spread it with two fingers. Cum was still pooling out of it, and this earned him the loudest cheer yet.

"I'm so happy to be free, my love. So happy to be here, in a land of free men," Marigold said. "So please. Let me be blessed with every cock in this room, if the Hospitality God will give that to me."

And then God -- the _real_ God, the Lord Undying -- gave sore, road-weary Marigold just that.

-

The inn didn't close until late. By then, Marigold was fully naked by the fire, sucking the last prick of the last customer. The sobbing, shivering Iris was lying next to him. The Iris had proven far less popular with the customers than the more alert, less slatternly Marigold, and thus the black-haired slaveslut hadn't had to take any cocks at all since Ivo and Marigold had arrived.

But he still cried. The nectar, Marigold knew. This poor boyslut's lips were pale blue for want of nectar. 

Lasse was wiping down the bar. As the last customer came in Marigold’s mouth, thanked Ivo, and was shuffling out the door, Lasse locked it after him.

Then went to the table where Ivo was nursing a drink, his foot on the nectar vat.

"Thank fucking Akheneus Himself," Lasse said. "This is hard to get out here, and expensive, and if the bitch could eat me out of house and home to get it, he would. But I only let him have three cups each day. Enough to carry him through. He won't even eat anything else. Bitch! Come on! Let's finish off the last vat, and tomorrow morning you can have a cup of this one."

Ivo chuckled. The Iris moaned and crawled over to his master, his little baby blinking in his sling-swing. Marigold noted sadly that the Iris' ribs protruded painfully. The other slaveslut was dying, starving himself like a true addict who thought of nothing but nectar.

Lasse gave him a cup of nectar, and the Iris' mad, desperate face as he drank that cup broke a piece of Marigold that Marigold hadn't known was there to break. Then Lasse forced his nectar-dumb slave out of the back door, into the snow.

"Shed, bitch!" he said. "You sleep in the shed!"

He turned to Ivo.

"He's fucking useless. I wanted to have a nice toy and I got the most worthless cunt in the world. Whines and has seizures if I don't give him that shit. And has barely anything to do but drool and beg for more nectar when I try to fuck him. And look at him: he's half-dead. I always think I'll find his corpse in the morning."

Ivo laughed outright.

"I told you, brother. Nectar-sluts don't last."

Marigold crawled to his clothes, pulling them on. As Ivo and Lasse fell to talking about what Ivo had learned from the Dokkenai traders, Marigold said, "Honored Master?"

"What, my little Mari-bitch?" Ivo said.

"Master. May this worthless slavecunt sleep in the shed, once you've finished your pleasure with me tonight? I want to suffer for Him, master, for the Sun Over The Mountains. I must suffer, for I was pretending to honor a false god today. And there is a child borne of the God I must do my duty to with the milk He and you have blessed me with, master. I feel this as my calling."

Lasse shook his head, amazed.

"Holy Undying One. It's crazy, Ivo. Your bitch really does talk like a person."

Ivo grinned.

"Marigold's the best little slaveslut ever. And who made you that way, sweet-cunt?"

"You, Honored Master," Marigold said obediently.

"That's right," said Ivo. "I'm gonna be too busy making plans to fuck you tonight anyway. Go cuddle the baby, pretty slut. You've earned it."

Marigold pressed kisses to his boots before he went, knowing this would impress Lasse and please Ivo.

In the shed, a freezing hovel that was more tarp than shed, the Iris was shivering and giggling on the floor, and the baby at his tit was crying. The Iris didn't even fight when Marigold sat next to him and took the child from him. 

The Iris' tits were completely dry. The baby suckled eagerly at Marigold's instead, little mouth clamping onto the nipple with desperation.

Marigold guided the Iris' head to the other tit.

"N-no," the Iris mumbled. "No m-milk. _Nectar_."

Marigold slapped him. 

The dumb, blank Iris didn't react. Just kept giggling. So Marigold slapped him again. And again. He didn't want to, but he wanted the Iris to -- to be different. He wasn't even thinking of the Iris now, really. He was thinking of Holly. His Holly.

And -- and _Ivo's_ voice was coming from his mouth.

"There's always something that the nectar can't take you through," he told the Iris firmly. "And we're going to find out what it is. Because you _can't_ be like this. Do you want to be fucking stupid, trapped in a nectar fog? Faithful to nothing? You're a slaveslut. And the best slavesluts are smart and faithful, little cunt. As is His will."

It took beating the Iris near black and blue to make the boy beg him, in a clear voice, with reason in his eyes and sobs in his throat, to please stop.

Marigold looked down at the shivering mess of boyslut before him. He kneeled down before the crying slave he'd ruined. Broken, in order to make him anew.

"Good," he said, patting the Iris' long black hair. "You want nectar, pretty slut?"

The Iris nodded weakly.

Marigold hit him even harder than before. The sound and motion made the baby wake from the slumber he'd fallen into, and Marigold rocked the child as he berated its mother.

"Wrong answer. No, you don't. You want Lasse's cock, and to stop costing him money, pretty bitch. Repeat that."

"I want Lasse's cock," the Iris said, mumbling and weak, "A-and to stop costing him money. Honored One, why--"

Marigold pinched the other boy's nipple, making him wince.

"Not honored. Just a slave. I know my place. And you -- you don't, do you? But you're going to die if you don't learn where you belong, what you are, which is nothing. You have no right to ask for nectar. None. Once you learn that, your life will be better, because you can do His will. Now. Iris-slut. You're going to drink from my tit, so you can be stronger than the worthless sack of flesh you currently are. Don't tell me you're thirsty for nectar, because I don't care.

"In the morning, you will not take nectar. You will kiss Lasse's feet and beg him for real food. That's a game we're playing, Iris-cunt. A game to see if you can remember that very. Simple. Instruction."

Iris made a shattered, miserable little face. But he put his mouth to Marigold's tit. And drank. And Marigold patted his dark hair, and smiled, and thanked the Undying God.

-

Marigold and Iris worked hard to make the inn a place the Dokkenai would want to frequent. Would mistake for a household loyal to the Hospitality God. They offered their cunts and mouths and arses on the house, kneeled before drunken crowds with their mouths open to take smelly ale-piss all over them.

They made Lasse's inn tremendously popular, a prime place for Dokkenai of all stripes -- bureaucrats and guardsmen and soldiers -- to come and spill secrets to the pretty slut with red fuzz on his head. The one that could offer up sweet, worshipful conversation while you fucked him.

This made Ivo very pleased, and meant that Marigold wasn't beaten so much any more. Marigold was fucked almost sweetly. Ivo even said he liked being sweet to him, that the worst thing was when Marigold was bad, and didn't deserve sweetness.

"Eats me up inside to kick that pretty cunt, baby. Just kills me. I want a nice partnership with my little slut, see? I want us to be happy."

It was Marigold’s entire purpose to make Ivo happy. That was why He had gifted Marigold to Ivo. So Marigold prayed and thanked the God for making him a good slaveslut. 

He thought the God must be listening, in His own distracted way. Even if Akheneus didn’t know He was listening. While Ivo’s cock still hurt, still stretched Marigold sore on the first thrust, these days, more often than not, Ivo would eventually hit that nice place in Marigold and make the slave wet around him. 

Ivo always chuckled at that.

The Iris lapsed occasionally. Of course he did. He'd been bred for nectar, raised to become addicted to it. But Ivo's methods would not fail, Marigold knew, for didn't even the Undying One admire those methods?

So whenever Iris asked for his normal three cups per day, instead of the two cups Marigold had ordered him to wean himself down to, Marigold would beg Ivo's indulgence after their nightly fuck-session. He would then spend the rest of the night in the shed, hugging the baby and tormenting the Iris.

Hitting him, fisting him. Pissing on the slutslave until the humiliation made the Iris a person again, a weak, miserable, confused little person. The real trouble with the Iris was that he had never had the selfhood Marigold had had, the shred of belief in himself. That shred -- that _Hallen_ \-- was profane and wrong in a slave, Marigold knew. But His will was complex, for that shred also made a slave proud enough to want to be a _good_ slave, a strong slave, all on his own, just because it was right to be so according to the will of the God.

He had to help the Iris build that shred for himself. In this, the baby came in handy. The Iris sobbed most when he realized how badly he'd failed his little baby. So when he was good, and repeated the right things, and drank the milk that gave him nutrients to survive the nectar-withdrawal, Marigold would brush his pretty hair and praise him, finding ways to make the Iris see his place as a mother and a slave and a slut all in one.

"Good. Good. Aren't you glad to be a strong slut? I bet you didn't even know you could be this strong. This strength is for Lasse. The God gave you to Lasse when He gifted you with the child you bore. So you must do His will and endure the thirst, Iris-cunt. If you are good, maybe your milk will come back, and then _you_ can feed your God-child--"

"Would like that, Mari," Iris mumbled around his nipple. 

"Of course you would. The best thing you've ever been is a vessel for a God-child, Iris-cunt. Aren't you sad you didn't realize how lucky you were when you were carrying this holy infant?"

Iris sobbed and nodded. Marigold rubbed his skinny little back.

"Lasse won't fuck a second baby into you now, because why would he? You're a failure as a slavecunt. You care more about nectar than your master. That's why tomorrow -- tomorrow you limit yourself to _one_ cup. You only take two if you're on the verge of death, Iris. Understand? And even then, it's not Lasse's will to have you cost him so much money. So maybe--"

Iris cried harder, but nodded again.

"M-maybe I should die, Mari. I-if I can't be a good slave a-and limit myself."

"That's right," Marigold told him encouragingly. "Maybe you should. Die and be reborn even lower, for failing at the one task He set you--"

Iris wailed louder, inconsolable.

"Shhh, pretty bitch," Marigold said, gathering his brother-slut into his arms, nestling him in his embrace alongside the baby. "I'll help you. I'll hurt you so bad every time you lapse."

"Th-thank you, Mari," sobbed Iris. "You're a g-good friend."

"And maybe you won't lapse," Marigold said. "Maybe -- maybe someday the only one hurting you will be Lasse, and you'll know then that you're a good slave. You're his slave, and blessed to hurt according to his whims."

"Let it be the D-divine will, Mari," the Iris hiccuped. "O-oh, please. P-please let it be His will."

When they'd been there four months, and Marigold was about five months along, there came a day Iris didn't ask for any nectar at all. Said, shyly, when Lasse offered his nightly cup, "Please, Honored Master. If it's your wish I not take it, then I would like to refuse."

Lasse blinked at him. 

Marigold had been watching Iris' master carefully, to see if Lasse had been noticing the gradual change in his slave. How Iris no longer whined or panted or trembled. How he didn't pester Lasse for his drink. How he ate food offered to him meekly, gratefully. How he fucked the customers enthusiastically, spreading his cunt lips like Mari taught him and clenching on every cock like the practiced whore every slaveslut should be. 

He was even a little fuller. His tits weren't giving milk yet, but perhaps soon they would. And his hair was glossy and sleek, his purple eyes alert, his skin pale gold and pretty again.

But Lasse was usually busy running the inn. And not just running it, but now, with Ivo, meeting daily with different informants from the Dokkenai council house. Informants who didn't know they were informants, who genuinely believed the two men loyal to the Hospitality God.

So possibly this was the first time Lasse really noticed the change in his slave.

"You didn't have it this morning, bitch," he said. "Or for lunch. Come to think of it, you only had a cup yesterday. And now you want none? You're not thirsty?"

"No, Master," Iris said. "I'm _so_ thirsty. But Mari has been helping me resist that thirst, master. Oh, Honored Master. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I failed you, and failed to do the God's will by being a good slut for you. I'm disgusting, master. I--I don't deserve any more nectar ever again. I deserve to be beaten and hurt by you, Master. I deserve to suffer for you and for Akheneus, the Lord Undying!"

Then the beautiful slaveslut was crawling forward and kissing Lasse's wool-covered groin. He abased himself _just_ like Marigold had taught him, with his face fully to the floor.

Lasse looked stupefied for a moment, but then he grinned.

"Aw, that's alright, cunt," he said. He scooped up the thin, pretty slave. "You wanna hurt? I can hurt you. As long as you remember to clench around all ten inches, now."

"May I do the Divine One's will, and remember," Iris said solemnly.

Laughing, Lasse carried him up the stairs to bed. As he left, he told the proud Marigold, "Finish wiping down the room, Ivo's slut. I'm busy tonight."

Marigold moved slowly and clumsily with his big belly, and first he had to settle the God-child in its cradle by the fire and sing to it for a few minutes to make sure it slept. But then he set himself to wiping tables and sweeping floors with a strange, fluttery peace in his heart. Iris was alive, and thriving. Taking a big cock in his worthless slave-holes tonight, as he should be. Thanks to Marigold. Marigold had done that, done the Divine One's will, though he was only a worthless slavecunt himself.

Ivo was upstairs, poring over coded letters from the Land Between the Mountains. Marigold made his way laboriously up the stairs to his master's room, and had the joy of hearing Lasse grunt in pleasure and the Iris whimper out a little prayer of thanks when he passed Lasse's quarters.

Ivo wanted Marigold to ride him tonight. That was a painful position, for it made Marigold sink his own pregnant weight deep onto the huge cock. But Ivo's will had to be done. Marigold steadied his weak hands on the huge broad shoulders and lifted his hips up and down, forced to impale himself on Ivo's prick. His master smacked his tits at every fucking Marigold gave himself, enthusiastic as Ivo always was.

"Good, Marislut. Faster, bitch. Faster. You took a horse, my little bitch. There's no roughness you can't take, right? That's why your old Ivo loves you so much."

"Th-thank you, Honored Master," Marigold panted out. He didn't feel so good with this fuck, but then it wasn't for him. And praise to the God that Ivo seemed to like it, that his Mari-slut was able to give this to the good old Commander.

"How's it feel, babyslut?"

"H-horrible," Marigold admitted, for Ivo did not like to be lied to. "I won't cum from this position, Master. But that doesn't matter. I'm honored to suffer for you, Master."

Through the thin inn walls, there came the soundS of another honored slavecunt. The Iris. Sobbing, wailing.

"M-master Lasse, may the God b-bless you! M-may He honor you! Oh, oh, p-please hit my dirty cunt again, Master Lasse!"

Lasse's laugh was wild and delighted, mingling with the wails.

Ivo made a confused face. Then his big hands found Marigold's balls, that ugly, heavy sack even Ivo wanted to get rid of, and closed on them. 

_Squeezed_.

Blinding pain filled Marigold's brain. He slid onto the big cock fully, unable to control himself. He was screaming, crying. Pissing himself, too, and hating himself for that. He would deserve such a beating for this.

"Marigold," Ivo said pleasantly. "Is there something you want to tell me about Iris, babyslut?"

Marigold hiccuped. Ivo's fist was tight on his sack, tight and getting tighter, a torture that even wiped out the pain of being speared on Ivo's cock.

"F-forgive me, Master. I know you didn't order me to help the Iris, Honored Master. B-but he was such a bad slavecunt, Master. A-and in your wisdom you've taught me how bad slavecunts should be fixed--"

"Marigold," Ivo asked, astonished. "Baby. Are you telling me you _broke_ Lasse's bitch for him?"

Marigold nodded, tears running down his face. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Master. Doing something which was not your will -- I'm _sorry_. And I've pissed on you. Oh, Master, please punish me--"

"Don't worry about the piss," Ivo said. "You'll be the one licking it up and bathing me and then changing the sheets, my Mari-cunt."

And then he was letting go of Marigold's balls, the relief of this near-blinding, and pulling the slave into an embrace. Rubbing Marigold's shaking back kindly. Marigold was stupefied. Ivo was -- was _happy_ with him? Happy with such a stupid, worthless slave?

" _Baby_ ," Ivo said. "Babyslut. You've done the God's will. You've done so well, my pretty bitch. You know, when we're done with this hellhole country, I was going to retire to Tamina, the City on the Steppes. Maybe break a few horses. And maybe -- if there was money in it -- break something else, too."

"Slaves," Marigold breathed out, for the answer was obvious.

"That's _right_ , my Mari-bitch. And I'm so lucky, I get a little partner in that. The best, smartest little slut out there."

Ivo kissed him, and covered Marigold up completely with his big arms. Marigold was engulfed in Ivo, unable to so much as breathe for Ivo. Then the Gherik-Shu lifted Marigold right off his cock, and didn't even smack his tit the way Ivo always liked to. He just rubbed under Marigold's chin like Marigold was a little kitten.

"Go fill up the tub for me, baby. And you can clean yourself too, once I'm done. You've been so good you'll take it on your face and tits tonight, and then we can cuddle. You want to cuddle, Mari-slut?"

Marigold nodded vigorously. Cuddling? With his Honored Master? Marigold was dizzy with confusion and happiness, and eager for this tender, sweet reward.

After Ivo had come on his tits and Marigold had scrubbed down his big body, mostly with his tongue, and then changed the sheets on the bed --

Ivo held him. Held him tight, and kept him warm. The massive prick was tucked between Marigold's arsecheeks, a banked weapon. But Marigold's holes got some rest, and Marigold's nasty, hurting slave-body was treated like a cherished thing. An almost valuable thing. Marigold cried with joy, and thanked his master profusely.

"That's right. Thank old Ivo," Ivo chuckled. His hand massaged Marigold's skinny arm, the motion strangely soothing. "I love to do nice things for you, Mari-slut. I just have to want to. And you know why I want to right now? Because you did just what a slave should do. You did my will, acted out my plans and ideas, as if I were your god, baby. That's all a slave is. One to whom the God has given their own, personal god. Do you know what that makes you?"

Marigold thought about it.

When Ivo put it like that, the world shrunk down considerably. Became so simple to understand. Even a very dumb bitch could thrive in a world this simple. Hadn't that been what he'd been trying to teach the Iris?

"Lucky," he said firmly.

"That's _right_ ," said Ivo. He planted a sloppy kiss to the back of Marigold's neck. "It's your job to make me happy, baby, for the rest of your life. That's a pretty simple mission, isn't it? And that's what love is, my Mari-cunt. This is _love_."

-

After this, sometimes, when Marigold reported that the fucking was horrible or painful, Ivo took special care to go slower. To not pummel Marigold with cock. To reward his little slut. 

"You like this position?" he'd ask Marigold, when he fucked into the slave. 

Marigold would remind him that what Marigold liked didn't matter. But would answer honestly, too. So that one day, when he admitted that being fucked from behind hurt the least, felt the best, felt _so good_ , Ivo crowed.

"Look at that! And I like fucking you from here, Marigold, because it makes those tits and that fat belly swing."

"Thank the Divine One," Marigold said reverently. "He has blessed me to like what you like, Honored Master."

"Lucky slut," Ivo agreed, fucking into Marigold deep. He rubbed his big cock so slow and good into Marigold. When the slaveslut keened in worshipful pleasure, Ivo chuckled. 

"M-may I ask the customers to take me like this today, Master?" Marigold managed, loving the full feeling of his master giving it to him like this, like Marigold’s hole deserved to feel every inch of that big honored cock. "Not just because I like it, Honored Master. Because I want you to see my tits and belly shake like this every time I'm fucked. I--I'm a real bitch in this position, Master."

Ivo groaned.

"You are, baby," he said, as he came in Marigold's dirty, well-worn cunt. "You are. But you're the best bitch, baby. Don't ever forget that."

Though Ivo said that a lot, and Marigold never noted it, now, for some reason, it made Marigold warm. 

Love? Maybe -- maybe this _was_ love. Love the way a slave should have it. Love that reminded you to remind your Master that he could piss in you as well, if he liked.

"Later, baby," Ivo said huskily, pulling out and rubbing Marigold's arsecheek. "C'mere. Turn around. Give old Ivo a kiss."

Marigold did. Marigold loved kissing Ivo by now. Marigold was blessed to like whatever Ivo liked.

-

Iris, too, was blessed now. His Lasse no longer forced him out to the shed, but instead kept him chained to the bed at nights. Within a month, his milk came back. And Lasse, who like Ivo did not believe slavecunt was worthy to be licked by a real man's mouth, even went out and found a mongrel Dokkenai alley dog for Iris.

Iris was so good and so unconcerned about nectar, he now got his own pet. A pet to lick his pretty cunt and make him writhe happily, and make Ivo and Lasse and the customers howl with laughter at the licking show.

Marigold crawled up to him and pressed kisses to his face, as Iris panted and moaned. Their Masters and the customers liked that too. 

"M-Mari," Iris managed. "O-oh, Mari, it feels _good_ \--"

Marigold tweaked one of his nipples with a nail, making the other slave shudder. He looked over Iris' shoulder and locked eyes with Ivo. Ivo grinned, and Marigold knew at once that he understood Ivo's will once more.

Blessed to understand it. As a slaveslut should.

"What do you think Lasse wants, now that he's given you this gift?" Marigold whispered, pressing kisses to Iris' high cheekbones. "Hmm? Think. A stupid slut is a worthless slut, so _think_."

"A-aaah!" the Iris said. He was coming on the dog's tongue, a boyslut so dirty he could be undone by an animal. "I--Lasse likes to see-- He likes--"

Iris blinked. Marigold watched comprehension dawn in those beautiful eyes.

Miserable comprehension. But accepting. And acceptance was the first step, the most important one. After acceptance, pretty Iris would learn to love this game, this dance. Would understand it for the holy worship it was.

Iris reached back. Pressed his thin fingers to his slobbery, glistening cunt, and parted the lips.

"Puppy?" he said, in a high, frightened voice. "Puppy, will you fuck me? M-my Lasse, please, will you get this puppy to fuck me? We need to show our new pup some hospitality."

Lasse's face was a rictus of delight. But Ivo, Ivo looked--

Marigold's master looked completely in love. Truly, completely in love. With _Marigold_.

"I want a puppy too, husband," Marigold called out, dazed with stupid, thankful pleasure at pleasing his master. Life was so simple when he just pleased his master. Even for a valueless slut like Marigold. 

A dog would be rough and painful in his cunt. This one was already climbing on Iris and making the other boyslut flush and cry at how it jabbed into him. His tits shook with every too-fast jerk. Marigold didn’t want that to be him, not really. But — but no. 

No, he did. He was a slaveslut. This was his place. This was how he earned _love_ , through pleasing his own personal god. 

"Honored husband,” Marigold panted out to Ivo, to all the room, playing eager fingers into his cunt. “May I fuck the dog next? I'd like a dog too. Oh, please make me a bitch, husband. Please.”

Ivo crossed to him, hauled him up, and said, “of course, baby!” as the room erupted into cheers. Then, low beneath the cheers, he sucked painfully at Marigold’s neck.

“Already did, didn’t I, Mari-cunt?” he said low, his grin sharp against the freckled skin.

Marigold blinked. Iris was wailing now, wailing as a dog frantically fucked him and three or four Dokkenai egged the dog on, Lasse watching the proceedings indulgently. 

And then the dog would fuck the Mari-cunt. Marigold spread it with his fingers. He laughed once, twice, more little exhales than laughs.

“Yes,” he told his Master, his eyes wet. “Yes. Th-thank you. I love you.”


	14. Divine Slut

Marigold was about seven months along, heavy with the blessing of his very own God-child, when he fucked a council house bureaucrat who knew where the Dokkenai kept the scrolls of the Hospitality God.

The ones that were said to hold all the secrets of the Dokkenai bureaucracy. The ones apparently infused by the imperceptible, airy power of the false god. The ones Ivo wanted destroyed more than anything.

It was an honor to bring the information to his Master. To see Ivo's ugly, wonderful face light up. 

When the Dokkenai capital city burned, it was a halo of cleansing purple loveliness. Marigold held the Iris, who held the gurgling already-born God-child -- now christened Jari by Lasse, who was kindly as a father these days -- and together they stood in the snow just outside the city and prayed their thanks to the Lord Undying.

The invading force was led by Corporal Reyee, aided by many of Akheneus' former commanders. Including, of course, Ivo, who took special delight in rounding up pretty silver-eyed Dokkenai to be sent back to the Undying Court.

"Free!" he grunted. "These worthless heretics killed their first god, did you know that? A real god, not the air. The living Goddess of Jewel Mines. They reduced that goddess' daughter to slaveslut and sent her to bear the Living God, as punishment for believing a human could be elevated to godhood. They destroyed the order, baby. And then they thought they would get to call themselves the 'Free.' Fuck no. No one is free unless the God says they are."

And Akheneus was plainly pleased with Ivo's initiative in avenging his mother. For Reyee carried two scrolls with her, and once their victory was complete and the Commanders had packed their things, tied their slavesluts down with gold and bounty, and were waiting at the docks, Reyee presented each man with a new proclamation from the Lord Undying.

"He's killed the Snow God and the Snow God's whole family?" Lasse said, pale eyebrows climbing up his handsome face. " _I'm_ to be the new Snow God?"

Iris was such a good little slavecunt now that, despite being forced to carry both the God-child and a heavy pack of Dokkenai amethysts for his Master, he handed the infant to Marigold at once. He got to his knees and put his face to the snow, tears of joy in his eyes.

"Master! Oh, Master, _Exalted_ Master! Bless this, the day of your elevation! May I kiss your feet, Master?"

There could be no divinity happier on that dock that day than Lasse, the Jullskint God of Snow. He pulled up the pretty Iris and kissed him roundly.

"When we get back to the Undying Court, I'll put a second god-baby in your belly, little bitch," Lasse promised. "You'll swell up for me and your little slavecunt will birth me Snow Children until the day you die, my love."

Iris gave a cry of delight.

Marigold was happy, terribly happy for the other slut. He kneeled in the snow with the God-child, to do honor to the new god, and looked expectantly to Ivo, still holding his own scroll.

It was identical to Lasse's scroll. Ivo would be elevated, finally, as He willed it, Ivo would be elevated--

"No," Ivo said, looking at the scroll and giving a short, belly-loud bark of a laugh. "His Divinity has such a sense of humor. God of _Waterfalls_? No. This is surely not His real will, but please, Corporal Reyee, tell Him that, as ever, I appreciate His youthful mirth. Anyway, if He needs me, I'm taking my bitch and going back to the Steppes." 

He handed back the scroll and made Marigold hand back the God-baby, and then took his heavy-laden boyslut by the collar to lead him up the gangplank, away from the Dokkenai continent forever.

-

Marigold gave birth on the journey home, on the side of a dark road somewhere near Truenka. 

He begged Ivo to let him give birth as a slave should. That was to say, alone and naked as an animal, with no assistance, for slave-bodies were made to suffer, and birth was only another spate of suffering. A bit different from the normal suffering, but still just suffering for the God.

It took several hours. He pushed and told himself he trusted in his God's plan. He prayed to the Lord Undying, slapping insects from his face and letting sweat run down his crouched thighs, and reminded himself that by the God's will he was strong. Worthless, but strong.

"That's right, babyslut," said Ivo, who was sitting some fifteen feet away by the fire, mending his saddle and smoking a pipe. "Good job. Hurry up, though. I want us moving at first light."

"Y-yes, Honored Master," said Marigold. "Thank you, Honored Master."

"You'll do your exercises next time we stop, tighten up that cunt again. I'll use your arse in the meantime."

"Thank you, Master, for that kindness."

"Mm-hmm," said Ivo. "Hurry up."

The God-child was born an hour or so later. She was a squalling, unusual infant, brown-skinned with strange marsh-grass eyes and freckles on her cheeks.

"Bring her here and I'll name her, my Mari-slut," Ivo said cheerfully. "That's a future Elite Commander, that is."

Marigold dragged himself over to the fire. Ivo took the crying child from him and cut the cord with a knife he had in his belt.

"Please, Master," Marigold breathed out, half-lying in the dust at Ivo's feet. "There is still the afterbirth."

"Alright. You have ten minutes, Marigold," Ivo said easily. "Because you've been so good, baby."

While Marigold dealt with the afterbirth, the former Commander cradled the little infant tenderly. His voice was almost sweet. "Hello, Yasmin. Yasmin, my charge, my God-gifted girl. Don't worry, pretty girl. I know you're hungry. But there's a nice fat set of bitch tits right there that will be feeding you and all your little brothers and sisters to be. Courtesy of good old Ivo."

Though Marigold did do his exercises, and did them faithfully, one of the first things they did when they reached Tamina was to visit the Steppes-shrine to the Clever Lady. There, Ivo had him modified a second time. Marigold's holes were tightened up the fast way, both of them. His cock and balls were completely removed, leaving a pretty bare patch on which they tattooed him as Ivo's property. As promised, his tits were tattooed too, with snarls of fuzzy-headed red-gold flowers, a beautiful mosaic that left no doubt that Marigold was a treasured pleasure slave.

By now Marigold's hair had grown out. It was curlier than before. Ivo was pleased by that. He liked to tug it as he fucked Marigold. And he liked to fuck Marigold near-constantly.

Even though he was a busy man. He did break horses, for nobles and merchants, and he had several trading caravans that reported to him and worked for him -- for Ivo was a wealthy man now, too. A man with a great fine house his servants had seen built for him in the center of Tamina. It was a beautiful white-walled building with fruit trees in the courtyard; enormous stables for the horses; and a tower room and tutors and nursemaids for the God-child, Ivo's beloved little Yasmin. And, in Ivo's bedroom, a barred door which led to what the Gherik-Shu people called a sheath stall.

A slave stall, really. A neat, windowless room for Marigold, with a real bed for Marigold when Ivo was so kind as to let him rest, a bitch-post to be tied to for when Ivo wanted instead to pleasure and hurt him. A golden cock just like Ivo's in the floor which pumped soapy water to clean Marigold out, and a golden cock just like Ivo's in the wall which, blessedly, did not dispense nectar but did give Marigold a nice, nutritious feed -- the same feed they gave the horses. 

It was better feed than what Ivo's other slaves got. Gherik-Shu liked their horses, but saw most slaves as weak. Nectar did a roaring trade in Tamina, expensive though it was. All of Tamina's best houses were struggling under the weight of the nectar bills.

So all Ivo had to do to drum up business for his second hobby was show Marigold off. Ivo became known for his Marigold parties, for the nights his smart little slave would perform for select groups of Tamina nobles.

Marigold was gifted a puppy. A hulking, modified dog with a cock that knotted and also hooked its cockhead into his womb. He took that special torture in his cunt and whined out a highly specific description of the pleasurable pain to astonished, delighted Tamina nobles. He told them how dirty and humiliated it made him feel to see the dog-prick distending his stomach, and how grateful he was each time the God reminded him of his low worth like this. 

Marigold was also gifted a pony. Ivo was kind enough, good enough, to fist his holes before those shows. The pony was a burnished red-gold to match its slave-mate, and always left Marigold gaping and quite unable to walk. But Marigold was still smart enough to please his master's guests by crawling around afterwards and showing off the gape, answering questions about it. Assuring them that it was his blessed place to suffer like this for their entertainment, and that any slave, properly broken, broken the _right_ way, would similarly welcome even this.

But most of all, Marigold was given the chance to worship Ivo. To lick his rim or suck his cock as the guests all ate, to offer his own milk to the crowd and let them know that it, like all of Marigold, belonged to Ivo. Ivo took him for walks through the Tamina square, Marigold on a golden leash, while the slave enthusiastically boasted of how well-broken and lucky he was to be Ivo's. 

So they began to receive loaned slaves, Gherik-Shu slaves, pretty young things for Ivo to beat and fuck and Marigold to comfort. Friends, who Marigold could hold and pet and teach to take dog-cock. Who Marigold could help improve, could remind of their places. Marigold was especially good at humiliating them for their nectar-thirst, berating them, leaving them sobbing and shamed for their failure to reject madness and love the Lord Undying just as they were. As thirsty, worthless, frightened little bitches. 

Ivo's coffers swelled. Soon he was the richest man in Tamina. 

Thus, even if he had not been beloved to Akheneus, he would have been precisely the man to host the Lord Undying when, one day, the God paid them a visit.

Marigold missed the joyous golden parade through the streets. Missed the moment the Divine One was carried through the doors of Ivo's white mansion in a beautiful bejeweled litter, Zerrik prancing behind him. Marigold was allowed now to spend afternoons with Yasmin the God-child, these days a beautiful, clever two year old. Of all the many mercies Ivo did him, this was one of the kindest things, one of the things Marigold loved his Honored Master best for. Ivo let the slutslave, low and stupid as Marigold was, still spend time with the sweet baby he'd borne the God. Marigold often cried at how lucky he was, as he kissed the child's tight curls and helped her arrange her golden toys however she liked.

"Ma," Yasmin said agreeably, holding out a little hand to the lapis lazuli rattle by Marigold's feet. "Ma-slut! Want."

Marigold gave it to her. Marigold gave Yasmin anything she wanted, for she was a favored, beautiful, intelligent little girl. Truly blessed by the Divine Godhood.

"Thank-oo Ma-slut," Yasmin said politely. Then she giggled, and pointed at her mother's belly. "Fat! Fat Ma-slut!"

Marigold nodded.

"Yes, clever girl."

Marigold's stomach swelled now with Yasmin's brother or sister, a child that was Ivo's. A Gherik-Shu baby. Marigold had begged Ivo to let him honor the baby after it was born. To let him show all Tamina that Ivo's favored slut was no weakling. To let Marigold ride sheath below Ivo's own horse on the traditional Steppes-ride after the birth. 

An offering of his pain, the best and only thing Marigold could give the Lord Undying. 

Now, he dropped to his knees before Yasmin and whispered out a few prayers, heartfelt ones, thanking the God for the journey of his life thus far and begging for the strength to endure the ride and make his Honored Master proud. 

"Please, Divine One, oh great Sun Over The Mountains, Exalted Excellency who sees all things--"

"Yes, Ivo's slut, what is it?" came a voice from behind him.

Marigold turned, astonished. When he beheld the handsome, tall God in the doorway to His child's room, he gave a cry of joy and fell prostrate before Him.

Akheneus, of course, took this as His due. A number of servants and slaves poured into the pretty tower nursery behind Him, to bow before His God-child. Akheneus Himself only came forward a bit and gave her a sort of dubious look.

"Right. Looks healthy. And, er, smart. Not so big as the one Lasse's pretty slut-wife is raising--"

"Please, Your Divinity, Yasmin is a year and a half younger than that God-child," Marigold pointed out.

"Is she? Alright then. Well, she should carry on or whatever. And now Ivo can't grouse and say I haven't seen her. I've seen her. She pleases Me. Come on, Ivo's slut. I'm starving and want to eat, and you can put on a show with My Rose while I do it."

Marigold didn't really want to leave the God-child. But he wanted less to disobey a direct order from the Divine One. He followed Akheneus down to the great central dining room, a whitewashed room which opened onto the fruit-laden courtyard. Ivo was already there, getting his cock sucked.

By a beautiful silver-eyed Dokkenai slaveslut. Marigold couldn't tell if this was a boy modified to be a girl, or a girl modified to be a boy, for the Rose's face gave no hints, and the Rose had cock _and_ clit, which, truly, no other slave Marigold had ever seen did. The slave's gorgeous dark red hair was plaited in two braids, and their delicate little nose was pierced by a big ring. Akheneus had opted for rather small tits, considering, but the nipples were long and thick, obscene animal nipples that Marigold was quite certain the God-King must find hilarious.

"Good, right, Ivo?" Akheneus said happily.

Ivo grabbed the Rose by the crown of their head and forced their pretty face back, off of his cock. He spit into the slaveslut's face. The Rose was alert enough to both cringe a bit _and_ say, in a humble, honest voice, "Thank you, Honored One. May I finish sucking your prick, Honored One, or shall I offer you one of my other holes?"

"Trained-up well," Ivo said then, to the Undying One. "Very well indeed. Who broke her for you?"

" _I_ broke her!" Akheneus said hotly. "Using the notes you left me, and only a quarter as much nectar as most of the other ones need."

Ivo grinned.

"Well done, Divine One. Mari-slut, get over here. Take this pretty whore's cock in your cunt while we eat. I want to hear your little whimpers as you're fucked so nice. On your back now, my bitch."

Marigold hastened to obey, thanking Ivo profusely. The Rose was so much lighter than Ivo on top of him. Light and so, so pretty. Her cock was not even a slave-cock at all, but a pole of good length and girth, crowned by a cruel golden ring that kept it erect, weeping a bit. 

The Rose shoved it into his cunt without preamble, moaning. Marigold moaned back, enjoying the almost gentle way the meek little slave rocked into him. It was so good, it nearly took effort to remember to thank Ivo and the God with every breath. His sore walls were going so wet at how nicely they were filled. Not abused by the fuck at all. 

The two slavesluts rutted together as Ivo and Akheneus took their meal, talking agreeably of gods the Lord Undying had had executed, and others He had made strong alliances with.

"I've made Reyee the new Medical Goddess, but X.P.'s still trouble, of course," Akheneus complained. "And the Pig God, and bloody Dementhe--"

"You'll act against them in time," Ivo said. "You have a growing number of gods loyal to You now, Exalted One. Elevated from Your own guard. You have to do that every few generations, You know. For they get arrogant, and forget their place."

"I know," Akheneus said, squirming a bit. "But that's just it, Ivo. _Some_ of My guard have refused to be elevated!"

Marigold, though he was gasping a bit as the Rose's incredible cock rubbed him just right, snuck a look at Ivo. Ivo's face was impassive. 

Akheneus' young voice hitched.

"Well, I should really like to make you the God of Fatherhood, Ivo, if I'm being honest. Or the God of Wisdom, if that fucking stupid Octopus hadn't claimed that already."

"Your Divinity does know best. Thus, You know and I know I'm not here to build octopus creations."

"Well, then what do you _want_ , Ivo?" Akheneus whined, sounding frustrated. "What do you fucking want?"

Ivo's mouth was a thin, frightening line. Marigold knew instinctively that after this dinner his poor Ivo would have to be begged to give Marigold _such_ a beating, just to help his Honored Master let out some of his anger.

"Your Divinity sees all and knows all, and thus it is not my place to tell You what I want," Ivo said testily.

Akheneus looked prepared to throw things. And Marigold couldn't understand that, because he was a God, and what Ivo wanted? That was clear even to a worthless little slave like Marigold.

On the next thrust, he let himself moan as loudly as he was inclined to. And he let the moan trail off into a prayer. A prayer that fell and rose in time with the fucking, in time with the desperate, hitching wails in his throat. A prayer fucked into him by the God's will for him, 

"Oh, oh th-thank you, Undying One! Thank you for gifting this worthless bitch to a slavebreaker like Ivo! Thank you for the honor of this fuck, for You guided my Master to the _true_ way to break a slave. We fuck for You, Exalted One, to celebrate a new world, a better world. This bitch and Rose-bitch are blessed, my Lord Undying! W-without nectar, without the promise of any reward or pleasure, we still serve! We serve and thank you for it, for we have been broken according to Your will and the will of my Master!"

Then he was cumming, cumming on the Rose's long cock and licking the lovely slaveslut's face, just to taste the spit-stain left by his master. The Rose had caught on, and was panting, "Thank You, Divine One! Thank You for breaking me!" 

Evidently a smart little slut, like Marigold.

Akheneus blinked.

"Wait," he said. "Hang on. Ivo. I just had a thought. Do you want to be the Slavebreaker God?"

Ivo's grin was huge, toothy, and brimming with his wonderful heavy malice.

"Your Divinity," he said, "You bless me, and do me honor. How did You know? Truly, You are the God above all gods. You have looked into my heart and known me, My Divine Lord. Slavebreaker God? Yes. Yes, I accept that elevation, Exalted One."

-

Two great temples were built for Ivo, one in Tamina, and one in the Undying Court in the Land Between The Mountains. 

So Marigold, by the God's will, was returned to the Sacred Land. This time in Ivo's litter, mouth warming Ivo's cock all along the journey. Yasmin came with them, playing happily with her rattle while Ivo bounced her and cooed at her.

"Ma-slut," she giggled, pointing at the funny spectacle of a slaveslut buried in the pungent, hairy vee of her guardian's groin. "Hungry?"

"That's just your Ma-slut's place, honey," kind old Ivo told her gently. "Now and forever. And someday you'll get your own pretty slut, my girl, and you'll break that bitch as beautifully as I broke your Ma-slut."

Yasmin clapped and laughed. Ivo's cock twitched in Marigold's mouth, and his acrid piss jetted onto the slave's waiting tongue.

Marigold could have felt humiliated. Felt low. But he didn't--he had been broken properly, so he felt honored, which was how he should feel. He chanted in his mind a thanks to the God. He was such a lucky, favored slutslave. He was. It wasn't every bitch that got a master like Ivo, the wily old Slavebreaker God.

The Temple had a throne that was a silver chair, and a second throne, a post-and-floor-cock throne. For Marigold. For the Slavebreaker God, Ivo had argued, could not be complete without a pretty little partner. The Slavebreaker God was part of a _set_.

And that wasn't the only gift he had for his bitch.

Commander Aimu, who ran the Garrison, was finally retiring. But he wasn't taking his favored slave with him. He didn't want the nectar-hassle.

"It's not like I can free him, either," he complained to the Slavebreaker God. "He's my brother, you know. My worthless boyslut mother slept with another slave, rather than accepting that he was a gift to the man that raised me. So the dishonor carries onto this bitch. I've tried to punish him for it all his life--"

"As is good and right," Ivo said, nodding and regarding the shivering, dull-eyed Hollyhock, whimpering for nectar on the floor of the temple.

"--but I'm tired of it. I should get to live _my_ life. No, please, Ivo. Take this little slut into your own house. If you can wean him off the nectar, great. If he dies, then it's the God's will and I accept that too."

Ivo now nodded to the trembling, excited Marigold, sitting there impaled on his cock-throne. Marigold undid the lead tying him to his post and slid off the big cock, wincing as it rubbed its painful way out of his cunt. Then he crawled to the newest member of their household.

Holly. His Holly. 

"Shhh, shhh, Holly-slut," he whispered, gathering his friend up in his arms. Holly whined. His lips were blue, his long legs spasming up. Marigold had to wipe a few tears away from his own eyes. He'd been so, so worried about Holly. So worried Holly would end up like this.

But by His grace, now Holly wouldn't. Now he and Ivo would make Holly better.

Ivo finished speaking to Aimu, shook the fellow Guard's hand, and then came to crouch down by Marigold. He ruffled Marigold's hair.

"You want this bitch, babyslut?"

"Yes, Master," Marigold said at once. "By your will and your grace, Master, _yes_ \--"

"Easy," Ivo laughed. "You've been a good bitch. It was funny, the way you put carrots in your holes at breakfast--"

Marigold laughed.

"I love to joke with you, Master," he admitted.

"I love it too, baby. I love you. You can have this little bitch for yourself, and we'll train him up, baby. Modify him a bit--"

"Oh, _please_ give him the big fat tits you love, Master--"

"You know what, Mari-slut? I think I will," Ivo said. "Let's get some nectar so your pretty slavebitch doesn't die, and then we'll figure out what makes him so miserable he has to snap out of it. Alright?"

Marigold nodded eagerly.

It was _hard_ to break Holly. Holly seemed made for pain. But then Marigold had an idea, and told Ivo to beat not Holly but _him_. To beat and beat and beat and beat Marigold, until Holly, squinting, recognized the crying redhaired boyslave.

"Ma-Mari?" he stammered out, coming out of the nectar all on his own thanks to his terror for his old friend. His tone was horrified. "N-no. No, please. Please don't beat him! My Mari! Please!"

"Huh," Ivo said, pausing in hitting Marigold. "Interesting."

Marigold, lying there cradling his stomach so Ivo wouldn't hurt the new baby, giggled. He crawled to the confused Holly.

"You're so good, Holly," he told his friend. "That's what makes you really suffer? Seeing me suffer? Oh, Holly."

He kissed his friend, his beloved. Holly had such a perfect, swollen mouth, beautiful and red. 

"Are you thirsty?" Marigold asked him when he broke off the kiss, already knowing the answer.

"Y-yes," Holly said, sobbing a bit. "I--I want nectar--"

Marigold hit him. The force made his pretty head rock back. 

"No," Marigold crooned to his shocked friend. "No, you don't. What you want is to be a _good slave_ , secure in how worthless you are--"

"M-Mari--" Holly cried out, eyes wide.

Marigold kissed him and kissed him. His Holly. His stupid, pretty Holly.

Ivo came over now, and said, "Tell the bitch to kiss your feet, baby. You're a slaveslut, but you're more than that, aren't you?"

Marigold blinked. He forced Holly's head to his feet, making the shivering blonde boyslut obey Ivo's will.

"Yes, Exalted Master," Marigold said. "By your grace, Master. I'm so lucky."

Marigold wasn't just Marigold anymore. His beloved Master, the Slavebreaker God, had argued for _two_ elevations. The Slavebreaker God needed a pretty Slave God to break, to coax pain and blood and want and faith and submission out of. Forever. And so Marigold was a divine paradox: a slave _and_ a god, honored with his very own thick, hard god-throne to fuck himself on. Honored to be a slave, praying every night to be reborn as just what he was in this life. Praying to be tied to Ivo in every incarnation, so he could suffer below Ivo in every incarnation as a critical part of the Lord Undying’s pantheon. 

Now he rubbed the tears away from Holly's eyes and gathered his newest gift close again.

"Shhh, shhh," he told his friend. "It's alright, Holly-slut. I'm going to help you. My Exalted Master Ivo's going to hurt you, and I'm going to help you, and when you break, Holly, you'll thank us for it."

-

It was a joy to break Holly. To break his very own slaveslut, the one Marigold had adored almost from the minute he'd met Holly. And Holly _did_ thank him for it, in the end. Holly broke beautifully, just like Marigold had. 

"Is this what you felt like, Master?" he whispered to Ivo, on the night Holly kneeled before the both of them and begged to endure Ivo's big cock during the next morning's audiences, so that Marigold's sore cunt could do its godly work. 

Ivo kissed him, then guided Marigold to his knees next to Holly. Marigold hugged his friend, watching how Holly dipped his gaze submissively, sweetly.

"I want to please you both, Honored Ones," Holly said. Begged, really. "Oh please, let me please you both."

"See, babysluts?" Ivo said. "This? This is love. Now get on top of each other. I'm going to alternate the cunt that takes my thrusts. We'll see who's lucky enough to win my cum."

Marigold giggled and wrestled Holly to the floor, climbing on top of him. They both spread their legs as best they could like this, jutting their cunts out.

"Whoever loses should get your piss, Exalted Master," Holly mumbled. "I--is that what you want?"

Ivo chuckled. Marigold chuckled too. Holly was insecure, but he was on his way. He would be a smart, strong, _good_ slave soon enough. Marigold was proud of him.

"That is what I want, Holly-slut," Ivo said agreeably. He lined himself up with Marigold's cunt and pushed in, making the slave squeal. In all the way, rough and fast, before pulling out and then switching to Holly's cunt. Holly shrieked his pain, but bore it well, and Marigold kissed him. Kissed him and kissed him.

"How," Ivo panted, as he fucked them ruthlessly, "did I get so lucky? To have _two_ good slavesluts? One of them my own little godslut, the lowest and the highest of slaves? It must be the God's will, my bitches. By His will, all things are possible."

He gave Marigold his cum, and Holly his piss. And held them both that night, keeping them warm and praising them for being such pretty sluts. Holly, squirming around the golden obelisk that kept the piss in him all night, Ivo even permitted to tug himself off to a fast little cock-orgasm. Marigold watched happily as his friend cried out in pleasure. Soon they would get rid of Holly's little cock, for he didn't really need it, but Ivo was such a good, kind man that for now he was still willing to reward even a low slave like Mari's Holly like this.

Mari was so lucky. The Lord Undying had set him on a fortunate, blessed path.

In the morning, Holly sat on Ivo's cock, trembling in pain and overwhelmed pleasure. And Mari took his place at his throne post, face to the floor, holes offered up, as the Divine Slut's holes should be. They had countless visitors, for the Slavebreaker God was a popular god. Merchants, nobles, even other gods. Each with their own cringing, pathetic, too-proud bitch.

Wily old Ivo knew to get those sluts licking his feet at once. Licking his ballsack. Licking the place his big cock fucked into the whining Holly-slut.

Marigold, meanwhile, leaned back and spread his cunt lips.

"We honor you, Bitch-God," panted out his worshippers, fucking into him and making him feel it. With their cocks, with golden toys Ivo had given him to use for this purpose. They dropped their coin -- the indulgences to be given to the Slavebreaker for using his slut -- in the bowl at Ivo's feet, and then turned to breaking the Divine Slut, Ivo's loyal bitch who thrilled at being broken. 

"P-please, my good faithful one," Mari would pant out, as his holes were filled and his mind taken over by hurt and lust. Made so full. Every cock that filled him was the gift of his God's will also filling him. "Faithful one, h-how would y-you like us to fix your slaveslut?"

This was his calling. His purpose. He was the Holy Slaveslut, low and exalted. And he and his Master, they would reach all the ones like him, the pathetic, valueless sluts, and make them valuable. Teach them also to love being broken. 

The God's will was good.


End file.
